The Moon Sings for You 🌙

Some nights, when the world goes quiet enough, I swear I can hear the moon hum. It’s not a sound you catch with your ears but with the softest parts of your soul — a lullaby woven from starlight and drifting clouds. A secret hymn that drips like silver honey into the hollow places inside your chest, filling every echo with warmth.

Watching that video felt like being cradled by the night itself: slow, silver ripples over still water, where each wave holds a forgotten wish. Fireflies blinking secrets to the wind, dancing like tiny lanterns for lost dreams that drift too far from shore. And the moon — always the moon — peeking through bare branches, patient and watchful, as if she has seen every sorrow and still chooses to stay.

I thought of all the times I have wept in secret, whispering to her as if she were an old friend perched high above my window. She never replies with words, only with this song: a hush, a glow, a reminder that darkness can be kind if you trust it to hold you. Some nights, when sleep won’t come, I imagine her hands, cool and soft, smoothing my furrowed brow, brushing away the tired salt of my tears.

This music wraps around you like a blanket that remembers every bruise and every dream. It says: Rest, little wanderer. Tonight, I am awake so you don’t have to be. It murmurs in a language older than words, telling you that nothing is ever truly lost, not under her gentle gaze.

So tonight, if you feel alone, listen — listen gently. Let the notes drift through your veins like rain on thirsty earth. The moon is singing for you too, quiet and patient, promising you that no matter how far you roam in thought or sorrow, there will always be a light waiting to guide you home.

by Onnaya