This morning I was walking up to the monastery in the dark; a bright light caught my eye. I looked up and there was the moon, a perfectly round, burnt orange disk stuck in the sky surrounded by blackness. Wow! It was so low over the city skyline it looked as if it could get caught in the trees or on the tip of a skyscraper. A breath-grabbing sight.
Then my mind started pulling out memories from my childhood, two in particular. One was one evening at home; I guess I was in grade school. I looked out the back door of our house up to the hill behind us and commented how pretty the moon was. My dad laughed and said, "That a porch light." (Obviously I didn't have my glasses on!!!!)
Another moon memory that emerged came from my freshman year in high school. That year I wrote a 2-line poem that has stuck with me ever since. I remember sharing it with my English teacher:
I saw the moon a-leisure on through the cloud-filled sky,
and stopped and thought within myself," What a God have I."
Isn't it fascinating where our mind can take us at the merest provocation? One thing, a gorgeous moon, brought back memories of home, a delightful father, school, and a great teacher. What treasures we carry around within us, just waiting to be relished at precious moments in our harried days or quiet nights. Something to be grateful for, right?
a KY monk
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