My mind flashed as if lightning stuck and my attention was brought from the thought of dinner to the presence of great looming, god like being above me. High above and within the clouds, embedded in the sky itself, looking at me, grinning softly with pearl white ivories.
“I am drawing you” - the words form from the lips of the almighy face in the sky, formless and yet perfect as it looks at me. I comprehend and yet do not comprehend this message all at once: the notion of someone, something, looking to me out of everything as a muse confuses me. Then the concept of a person in the sky to begin with onfuses me more. The fact I pondered that last, confuses me even more.
But despite stewing away in my thoughts, the being in the bright, unfathomable sky brings their immense pencil to their pad and begins. They are drawing me. As i stand at my front door. Gawping.
As I look up, preturbed at the face in the heavens with it’s pencil and sketchbook gripped in their cloudy ethereal hands, I begin to find myself feeling humbled in the presence of a creator. An artist.
Their world spanning fingers grip the pencil as they swipe from left to right, stiring wafts of gentle the sky to and fro in their skill. Concentration furrows in their vast brow, etched across their translucent forehead like streaks from a recent aircraft.
There is nothing I can do in it’s presence. Nothing but... be drawn.
I shrug to myself in my ignorance and make my way into the house. Making my way to my room before dinner, I play video games as the figure in the sky furiously sketches away. I am glad they are there. I am glad they are having a good time drawing me. A nice feeling. To be noticed by someone, something, even though they are beyond reach oh so far away. To know that I inspired them enough to breach that gap. A nice thought for a wednesday evening.
