For the second night in a row, Sister Moon is pestering me.
She peeks in my window at 2 a.m.
I open my eyes thinking it is dawn, and there She is.
She appears small, but she is luminous and bright.
She knocks at the pane, saying, “Here I am. Look at me. See me.”
I roll over and try to ignore Her.
She beckons to me.
I feign sleep.
She whispers in my head, “Come play with me.”
I look at Her over my shoulder.
Her call is too great.
I leave the warmth of my bed and pad down the hallway.
With pen and paper in hand, I climb atop the stool at the kitchen island.
And I write this.
I write about Sister Moon and how She is pestering me.
My husband comes to the top of the stairs.
“Are you okay?” he asks sweetly in his sleepy voice.
“Yes,” I reply. “I just need to write.”
He understands this and goes back to bed.
I continue to write.
I have not shun You.
May I sleep now, Sister?
On the third night, I think about Sister Moon.
Will She awaken me again?
Or, was last night’s surrender enough to satiate Her.
At 2 a.m., I am awake once again.
The room is dim.
I look to the window, but She is not there.
I am relieved, and yet, somehow I feel abandoned.
I know She is still there.
It’s only a matter of time before She comes calling again.
I take comfort in this.
With a sigh, I close my eyes and sleep.