Moonlighting

This poem, from my book of poems in progress, Notes of Awe, explores what opens up for us when we put down some of the things we carry.

Moonlighting

In time, if we put down what 
doesn’t need to be carried or 
defended, the want for greatness 
thins to a mist that lets us settle 
into all that is opened by truly 
being here.

And we can stop rehearsing 
when the totality of life pulls 
the stitches from our heart.

Now the moon spills its milky 
light on the far slope of our yard, 
the way our arms finally reach 
after years of pushing others 
away, saying, “I’m sorry. None 
of that matters now.”


A Question to Walk With: In your journal or in conversation with a friend or trusted loved one, describe how often your replay events and rehearse what might happen. Do you find this helpful or burdensome? How might you begin to lessen how often you do this?