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
