Just outside my room, the stars beckoned as they floated over the sacred lake. I sat and looked at the milky way, the orion, and countless other stars that vied for my attention.
Make a wish on me, they whispered, and I’ll make your dreams come true.
I hesitated. And the galaxy urged.
Come on, don’t be afraid, your dreams would never be too big for me.
And so i prayed with all my heart, without shame, without reservation, while an overwhelming sense of gratitude filled me. I opened my eyes to the milky way, tears blurred the distinction between the stars. They looked equally mesmerising. How do you really choose a star to wish upon?
I have too much, more than what I deserve. What more could I ask for?
The stars they know, and I wish I could speak to them more.
Tilda
