You aimed at the sky, pulled your imaginary bow taut, and released, shooting your imaginary arrow straight up.

And the sky danced along with your laughter as your arrow pierced through the wind and through the sun.

Eventually you waited. You waited, waited, waited, waited and waited for your arrow to come back.

But nothing came.

There was no arrow.

Nothing came.

Except for the dance of the sun. The playful golden rays bathed you in light’s calescence.

And you began to glow as you become entangled with the infinitely warm and glorious silent music.

Arrow? What arrow?

I don’t think you remembered any arrow being shot up. And I don’t think you even remembered waiting for it.

For at that moment, there was only you, the wind, the sun…

... and its dance.