At midnight, my family sleeping, I walked out back and to the south to be with the moonshine in our yard. She seemed on a quick sail west trailing an extra bright Jupiter like her kite (much brighter than Venus at this time of year.)

I stood in her light, clearing my thoughts while holding the emotion. The heaviness of what life is… that we exist and days pass, that we ache and yearn and lose our path… and how it is found time and again. We return.

A tear rolled and I craved the beautiful grace of those times a tear would cascade over my heart. Such a sensually powerful moment held between raw nights and my soul. Wearing a fitted high neck shirt, the moment caught me with a magical sense of awe that somehow tears still found that path.  My heart washed in a pure emotive rain (as Teaguey would say when he was tiny “tears are rain from eyes” Our baby poet)

I needed this moment with the night. This grace as I became so aware of the breeze, cool over my cheeks. These stories of longing and praying and self criticisms. These wetlands of silent prayers in our overgrown weed garden so late into the night, drawn into the lovely sight of the dark sky above. A painting of clouds moving, as if caught in a river’s swell. The sound of our new glass rainbow squares dangling a slow chiming prayer of their own. I bowed deep into the tall grasses (thickened by wish granting weeds, some as tall as me) and raised my arms in sun salutation – to the moon. I offered up my belly and heart and stretched my limbs in her light. I placed 10 fingers softly at my cheeks and held them there, memorizing the wrinkles and soft lines that will come. My need to love them and embrace them as time’s story, time’s beauty, time’s ominous presence and promise that we too will flow and shift and settle and rise – and return, sooner or later to a gasp…

A moment…

A cool breeze felt kissing her cheek

Because of a tear.

Saturday, June 16th 2019