Lunar Silhouette

This Illustration is based on an original photograph by dear friend MHP. This was taken when we strolled into some of the beautiful inner desert ranges in the Emirate of Sharjah, UAE. We initially went to photograph an eclipse but some cloudy patterns prevented us from taking the customary eclipse photograph and our roaming there was destined to be protracted for that perfect snap. The frame that you see was always there in the back of my mind. I’m always fascinated by celestial entities and is unapologetically fervid about stargazing. The beauty of glancing at them comprises the pattern in which they manifest of our feebleness in the grand magnificence and grandeur of the vast universe. For me, stargazing is about embracing humility and lightness. I somewhat feel the same with mighty mountains as well.

In the beautiful poetry of Serbian poet and essayist Dejan Stojanović,

To hear never-heard sounds,
To see never-seen colors and shapes,
To try to understand the imperceptible
Power pervading the world;
To fly and find pure ethereal substances
That are not of matter
But of that invisible soul pervading reality.
To hear another soul and to whisper to another soul;
To be a lantern in the darkness
Or an umbrella in a stormy day;
To feel much more than know.
To be the eyes of an eagle, slope of a mountain;
To be a wave understanding the influence of the moon;
To be a tree and read the memory of the leaves;
To be an insignificant pedestrian on the streets
Of crazy cities watching, watching, and watching.
To be a smile on the face of a woman
And shine in her memory
As a moment saved without planning.

Said Nursi writes:
The beauty of a finely worked object points to the beauty of the craftsmanship. The beauty of the craftsmanship points to the beauty of the name which was the source of the craftsmanship. The beauty of the name of the craftsman’s art points to the beauty of the craftsman’s attributes manifested in that art… The magnificent cosmos is a palace that has the sun and the moon as its lamps and the stars as its candles; time is like a rope or ribbon hung within it, on to which the Glorious Creator each year threads a new world.

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