Full Moon, Early Morning

Photo by Griffin Wooldridge on Unsplash

This morning I sat down in my writing space and paused to look out the window. There, in the corner, was the full moon, clear as anything. I never realized how perfectly I could see the moon from this position. We haven’t had a truly clear morning for a while. That moment fed today’s breath.

From the red chair in the alcove

surrounded by books, candles, mala beads, and drum

I see the full moon, bright in the top left corner

of the sealed bay window.

I nod to her and turn back to work

frantic at the laptop keys

responding to the past, holding back the future.

When I look up, the moon is patterned by the winter treetops.

Soon, she will descend below the rooflines

and be gone.

By then, the sun will rise.

We won't care about the moon anyway,

waiting, as we are, for the clarity of daylight to become our human selves.

Silly moon, I think, as she slides her silver face away,

to open so completely

for people asleep.