“You give of your talent, of your ability…the talent that was given you by the heavens. That’s why we’re here, to bring a sense of escapism in time of need. If you’re a painter you paint; if you’re a sculptor, you sculpt; if you’re a writer, you write; if you’re a songwriter, you give songs; if you’re a dancer, you give dance. You give people some love and some… some bliss and some escapism, and to show that you truly care from the heart, and be there for them. Not just from a distance, but show you really care. You be there for them. And that’s what I did. It’s an important thing.”- Michael Jackson, Oct. 2001
“You’ve come for another one, haven’t you?” Luna breathed out the words while her mouth formed a weak smile. “Michael, when will it end? Haven’t you given enough?”
“They don’t understand yet,” he stated emphatically as he stared into her other-worldly eyes.
“They may never understand,” she sighed and drew him closer to her.
If it hurt to touch him, it hurt her much more not to. Her embrace brought a breath of euphoria from his lips, as he held her to him, absorbing the power and inspiration of an ancient time and place. Her lifetimes poured through him once more, healing him and draining him at the same time. He lived for these moments. He wondered how such ecstasy could bring such torment. He couldn’t let himself think of that now.
“Let’s go,” she spoke sweetly, kissing him on the forehead as a mother would kiss a sleeping child.
But he was not her child. He was not her lover; at least she hadn’t planned it that way. Now it was too late to undo what they’d done. She could understand his hunger for her – for the magical words and melodies that a touch from her had set into motion. What terrified her was her growing need for him. She had always been able to inspire, plant the seed of greatness, and then disappear. Michael was the only one that had found his way into her heart in a way that confused and frustrated her. She hadn’t needed anyone before. They had all needed her, craved her powers, unknowingly accepted her gifts, and had promptly forgotten her visits (if they had been vaguely aware of her presence at all).
Michael was the only one who had seen her face, whose eyes she had been lost in for those few fateful moments. The first time it had happened she had gathered her wits about her and vanished as quickly as she had appeared. He was the only one who sought her out to thank her. He was the only one who had so appreciated her gift to him, that he had found a way to see her again.”
Pg. 5-6 MichaeLuna
“I love to create. I love to make magic. I love to create the unexpected.”- Michael Jackson
Note from Heaven Leigh:
I could write about anything, but I choose to listen to Michael’s spirit and write with his guidance. It sometimes means going off in a direction that I didn’t plan to go with the story. I surrender to the ride, to the roller-coaster of the tale. The process is as exciting as the story; it’s magical in itself. I will not make excuse or apology. I LOVE the ride! I LOVE the energy.
One day many will understand. This spirit is not ever gonna be done creating!
I’ve always LOVED to write. I’ve taken many writing courses to hone my craft, but no training in the world could have prepared me for the rush of writing with this spirit. It is writing taken to another realm, the wall comes down, and I travel to another world. I become the story and step into the flow of unexpected magic. My gift to you is that I take you along with me. I am excited to share this ride, invite you all aboard to listen as the wind flows through your hair and you scream with delight.
It’s not just a story. It’s a ride you will never forget.
MichaeLuna excerpt Copyright © April 3, 2013, Heaven Leigh