Sister Moon

Sister Moon

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.
How silly. 
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.

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