Handmade Candle - Moonbeam

What could be sweeter than enjoying the evening light while looking at the Moon? Observe her, confide our moods to her and let her take us by the hand. By admiring the celestial vault and the constellations, we reconnect with the origins of Humanity, with the great founding myths. We marvel at the stars and let ourselves be penetrated by the infinite delicacy of the scent of leather, a wood fire, a walk in the forest at dusk... The infinite softness of a ray of the Moon... Do you know who I am ? The Moonbeam. Do you know where I come from? Look up there. My mother is bright, and the night is dark. I crawl under the tree and slide on the water; I lie down on the grass and run on the dune; I climb the black wall, the trunk of the birch, Like a marauder looking for his fortune. I'm never cold; I'm never hot. I am so small that I pass Where no one else would pass. To the windows I stick my face And I surprised more than one secret. I lie down from place to place And the beasts of the forest, The distracted lovers, To love each other better, follow my trail. Then, when I get lost in space, I leave in my heart a long regret. nightingale and warbler For me sing at the top Elms or pines. I like to put my head At the rabbit hole, Then, leaving his retirement With sudden leaps, Everyone leaves and throws themselves Through the paths. At the bottom of the hollow ravines I wake up the deer And the worried doe. She fans, mute, The hunter who watches her Death in the hands, Or the distant calls Of the big deer getting ready To clandestine loves. My mother raises The foaming waves, So I wake up And on every strike I wave my lights. Then I sleep the sap Through the shady wood; And my brief clarity, In the sunken paths, Sometimes seems like a sword To the fearful passerby. I give the dream To joyful spirits, A moment of truce To unhappy hearts. Do you know who I am ? The Moonbeam. And do you know why I come from up there? Under the black trees the night was brown; You could get lost and slip in the water, Wander through the woods, wander on the dune, Collide, in the shadows, against the trunk of the birch. I want to show you the opportune way; And that's why I come from up there. Guy de Maupassant