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Selfishly, I hope that you find yourself thinking, "what is this life."
Last night I was searching for someone to listen to. Tonight, my daughter asked me why the moon follows us and I didn't know the answer. A told me that I know everything, but the only thing I knew then is that I would never again see that moment. I would not be (not even the next day!) that person I was for her tonight, as she stood with a towel wrapped around her, leaning against my chest, encircled by my arms.
I feel now as if my heart wants to burst, wants to shed its skin and become something more than I can imagine, expanding into an infinite space I cannot name.
I want to understand why I feel most at home when my husband and daughter are asleep and I am trying to make sense of my life at quarter to three on a Saturday morning.
I want to love the you that is me that is the world that is all that has yet to be reflected back to me from a reflection of a reflection of a reflection. I wonder if I keep writing if clarity will appear. I feel as though I should visit Eugenia, the almost 90-year old retired art professor who I met a year ago at a Christmas party.
I am afraid to even try to put into words half of what I feel and think and see and I wonder if I am alone in this.

As I was driving home, searching for someone to call, so that I could listen to a voice...I was rudely, sweetly interrupted by the moon. I craned my neck to the side, and leaving a greasy smear, bumped my head against the glass. I looked again and again at the sky, wondering what it was that made this feel so familiar. The rounded, glowing, misshapen bowl, visible through a ragged scrap of cloud. Was it familiar because this was the winter sky so much like the one I saw when I was seven, walking back through the woods with my mother and stepfather, still high from a dinner party with their friends? Was it real because I had seen it driving home to my father's house on one of those fall nights of my first semester in college?

Would you even believe me if I said that I recognized it because I felt God in me. Looking up, I felt that I was looking down at a celestial ocean. The veiled moon hiding beneath an ice floe, surrounded by other bits of ice clouds in a dark water so very close. The moon--a sweet, spooky, luminous eye, looking down/looking up, following me home.