Jolted

Jolted

Something woke me in the middle of the night. My eyes popped open, my heart awoken, feeling slightly shaken. Lying in bed, I’m facing the inside wall of my bedroom. The moon, in all its brilliance, shining its radiant, glowing face directly at me through the reflection of my armoire’s mirror.  

                “Why, hello, there,” she seems to say, and I smile. I could plainly hear her words, a greeting to my Soul.

            “Well, hi!” I respond, happily intrigued.

My *Awe* sets in.

How was I awoken? (My addiction to reasoning wants some answers.)

                “I woke you. We’re dazzling, aren’t we?”

               I turn my body over to look outside of the window so I can see her in a more direct view, not merely through my mirror’s reflection. I need to contort my body in an awkward way to see her in her entirety outside of the window.

I realize I had already been in the perfect position to see her in the clearest way imaginable through the reflection of my mirror.

                I roll back over with my back to the moon, and watch her hang in the sky through my mirror’s reflection once again as she begins to float slowly downward, drifting…

                My heart settles. All reasoning floats away. I don’t need answers (What woke me? How did I wake with such intensity? How was I in precisely the perfect position to witness her so clearly, wholly?) … though the questions do enjoy making their appearances. Curiosity, and all that jazz.

                  Still, I release the need for answers.

                As I watch Moon sink, I ask the questions and release the answers because the miracle lies not in those answers but in the questions themselves.

                I hold those questions close to my heart. Baring simple witness.

                Moon drops further down my mirror’s reflection until she is reaching the mountainside. She has illuminated a tree whose negative space is intensely outlined by Moon’s brilliance causing the darkened tree to show its magnificence equally.

                Together, we are brilliant, radiant, sparkling; Moon, Tree, Me.

                You, He, She.

Nothing matters just then; only the romantic, hearty moment between the Moon and Me…

                …as she lulls me back to sleep

Dreamweaver's Life-coaching