Hello. This photo was taken early in the morning, when the moon had not yet set in the sky and the sun had just begun to rise above the horizon.
There is a moment — quiet, fleeting — when the world holds its breath.
The stars begin to dim, and the sky, though still dark, whispers of change.
It is then, in that hush before dawn, that the moon lingers a little longer.
Not out of duty, nor reluctance, but out of something deeper: longing.
For all their distance, the moon and the sun know one another.
Not through conversation, nor touch,
but through the eternal dance of light and time.
They share no sky, yet shape the same world.
Each rise and fall is a silent exchange —
a promise kept since the beginning.
The moon waits, not because it must,
but because it wants to witness the birth of day.
To see how darkness becomes golden,
how the cold of night begins to warm.
There is poetry in that patience —
a stillness that speaks louder than motion.
And the sun, though never arriving early,
never fails to answer the moon’s quiet vigil.
It climbs slowly, deliberately,
spilling color across the sky
like a painter returning to a long-loved canvas.
In that meeting — not seen, but felt —
there is a lesson.
Even opposites may love in silence.
Even those who never meet may wait for one another.
And in that waiting, in that silent pause between light and dark,
there is beauty deeper than either alone.
So the moon waits, just a little longer,
not for the sake of duty,
but for the simple, eternal joy
of witnessing light return.
"Навіть протилежності можуть кохати в тиші.
Навіть ті, хто ніколи не зустрічається, можуть чекати одне одного.
І в цьому очікуванні, у цій паузі між світлом і темрявою,
є краса глибша, ніж окремо взята краса кожного з них".
