Listen!
We could be an opera
if we tell it right.
That night we first kissed —
in the telling, remember
the tree on the hill
and say: “In the dark
the moon followed us home.”
But you wouldn’t let me keep it.
moon
The Night We Saved the Moon
It was just past midnight when the moon fell from the sky.
It landed in the lake south of our barn and slowly began to sink below the surface. I saw it from my place at the window.
Lately I have been unable to sleep and lie in bed beside my husband until his breathing changes to soft snores. Then I move to the chair beside the window from which I can study the night sky.
It seems to me the Universe surely has all the answers hidden somewhere. All we need to do is to look in the right place, ask the right questions, and our little piece of the eternal puzzle will be revealed.
This farm and this life and this man are what I chose. Now I study the stars and wonder— is this all there is?
The life has become harder, the farm has struggled through crop failures and now flooding and the man…..well the man and I appear to have fallen out of love. Or so it seems.
So I sit up at night and look to the sky for answers.
Although the rains have stopped much of the country around here is flooded. Rivers have spilled over their banks and culverts and gulleys run with water. Our lake has risen right up to the barn.
Tonight the muddy lake water has turned to a beautiful fiery gold. It has gathered up the moons’ shine and multiplied it out from the center to reach as far as the water spreads. It is so beautiful I sit and gaze at it for a long while before i notice that the moon is sinking.
I dress quickly, calling my husband’s name as I pull on jeans and a sweatshirt. It takes him moments to wake but when he looks out the window he doesn’t question me, just begins to dress as fast as I. Downstairs we yank on coats and pull our clean mud boots from the closet. In minutes we are standing on the lake shore, wondering what to do.
As the night sky rotates towards dawn we try different solutions. Pulling it with a rope does not work, in fact it causes it to tip and slip further beneath the surface. After three failed attempts I turn to my husband and see the same feeling of despair written on his face. This seems so important to us, so vital for us to do together. There is no thought of calling others to help.
He drags our row-boat from the barn and throws the rope into it. Together we push-off and sail to the middle of the lake where our moon waits patiently. Together we use the rope to lift it easily into the boat . Together we hold the moon up and maneuver back to safe ground.
When we roll the moon out of the boat it lifts gently up into the air and glides back into the night sky. I find myself holding my husband’s hand and when he leans in for a kiss it is the best kiss we have ever shared. I melt into his arms and in the morning I’m still there, snuggled close beside him in our bed.
“What an odd and beautiful dream,” I think and wonder if that is why everything feels so much better this morning.
The love of my life is still sleeping when I tiptoe downstairs to start the coffee.
It will be hours before I notice the muddy boots dropped haphazardly by the door.
Splendid Sass 