wait. be still. trust: a poem by Jeanette LeBlanc

wait. be still. trust. {a poem for quiet nights and wild moons}

hushed house
wide awake
music fills my ears
enters my body
stirs my spirit
darkness closes around
as if i could be the only one
alive in this entire world

and i feel the pull of the wild moon
calling me to witness
her brilliance
the way she cycles from a shadowed sliver of herself
to full radiance
over and over again
like such a thing is normal
and expected
and good

just like we become more and less of ourselves
just like we succumb to the shadows
and then spin to the light
over and over again
as if we had a choice
in the matter
as if we didn't deserve holy reverence for
our relentless insistence on
surviving that very thing

outside
bare feet in wet grass
slow circle spin
arms out
head back
breathing in the night
footprints on warm cement
sharp rocks pressed into tender skin
forehead against metal fence
looking up
through twisted branches
to a sky filled with clouds
obscuring it all
even that wild and steady moon

but there
just there
in the one sliver of visible sky
a single star
strong and steady
only one
solitary and still
further away than my limited abilities to
fathom distance
yet still
resolved to shine

what more is needed
than just the one
one star. one body. one voice in the relentless dark.
to remind us
that there is always something ready to hold our fervent wish
something to close our hearts around
something in which to believe
to give us hope

a reason to be still. to wait. to trust.

{Jl 8.21.13}

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