While you were sleeping

When I awoke this morning the living room was filled with moonlight -- amazing!  It's rare for us to see the moon this time of year, as the cloud cover is usually pretty thick.

I went outside with my camera, and sat and watched as the moon sank slowly  behind the mountains; it was a beautiful way to start what is always the busiest day of my week.

I'm not sure I'll have time today to write any more than this, but I thought I would at least share my mountain moon with you -- even though I know that you, too, may have had a chance to see the full moon this morning...

Oh, good -- there's just time to add a poem from Meister Eckhart:



The Hope of Loving

What keeps us alive, what allows us to endure?
I think it is the hope of loving,
or being loved.

I heard a fable once about the sun 
going on a journey to find its source,
and how the moon wept
without her lover's warm gaze.

We weep when light does not reach our hearts.
We wither like fields
if someone close
does not rain
their kindness
upon us.