It was easy for me to make friends with the moon. My father hung it there just for me. The moon doesn’t race through the sky, like the sun keeping just ahead of me. It waits for me.When my mind is a puzzle or overburdened, the moon is there in black, black night waiting while I watch, trying to sort my thoughts, trying to find my feelings. It waits for me, waits for me. The moon waits while I watch.
I like to walk at night in the safety of stars and angels watching over me. On a road that I know by my favorite trees, I feel peace and comforting silence of deepest, dark blue. That peace, that peace is inside of me. It’s not part of the silence I hear. Would that it were, but it's not.
I know because when my mind is a puzzle or overburdened, the silence fills up with thoughts, with feelings that shadow me, trying to swallow and haunt me. While I walk in the dark, the moon waits.
I look to the sky for the stars and the angels to watch over me, but I don’t remember. I can’t recall how to believe. I just keep walking the road until I see the moon shining down. The moon waits for me, waits for me. It waits until I find it.
On the edge of the moonlight I'm wrapped in a blanket of black, black night. I watch the moon waiting as I sort my thoughts, trying to find my feelings. I sit watching the moon until I can see. It can take hours.
The moon always waits for me.
−me strauss Letting me be
10 comments:
The moon waiting is a new image for me. There's something about it that feels right, but I want to think about it some more.
It gives me a sense of comfort to think that there is something waiting for me while I work at figuring things out, thinking things through. It's a relief to think I'm not alone in my thoughts - the moon is a presence which waits and returns.
Hi Dawn,
I've spent scary nights staring at the moon and it stays where it while I think my thoughts. It's a comfort. I can't stare at the sun, but if could, I don't I'd want to. It's harsh light wouldn't feel good when I need sorting.
Liz, you've really mastered prose poetry. Beautiful. Soothing images and rhythms.
Thanks, David,
I think I've gotten ahold of the feelings now so that I can listen more closely to the music.
Hearing you say that is quite a compliment. Thank you. :)
You are welcome, mistress of singing words.
Thank you, musical friend, who holds my heart.
Liz,
That's one thing I do often. Sometimes to forget rather than sort. The sky is my last resort when all else fails, I look often.
The moon and clouds at night are sometimes the only things that I feel connected to. I await nights that the sky is full of Life, full of clouds illuminated.
I feel empty lately, maybe overdrive?...
Katrina
Hi Katrina,
Maybe you are in overdrive, maybe you haven't taken time to breathe. Breathing is a good thing -- you know it makes everyone nicer.
What have you done to tell that little girl you found that you know she is still there? She might be wondering where you are.
Liz,
it's uncanny. tonight, as i returned home from work, i saw the moon, like a slice of orange up there in a reddish sky. after weeks of a grey haze, it really is a beautiful sight. then i go blog visiting and one of the first posts was your one about the moon.
great post as usual. :)
Dsnake,
That is so cool! How could you not like this post after that? I had an in with you -- the moon had paved the way for me. :)
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