06/24/2026
I want to meet the moon in the wild.
Not from a window.
Not from a restless bed.
Not while counting the hours
like small silver stones
I cannot put down.
I want to walk toward her
with strong legs,
clear mind,
cool night air in my lungs,
and a heart no longer trembling
from exhaustion.
I want to meet the moon
where the world is wide open,
where the stars are not witnesses
to my worry,
but lanterns
for my becoming.
And when she sees me,
I hope she smiles and says:
“You came awake this time.
Not because pain called you,
not because fear kept you,
but because wonder
invited you out.”
Then I will tell her:
I am learning to sleep again.
I am learning to heal.
I am learning that my body
is not a battlefield,
but a beloved country
returning to spring.
No coffee this time.
No clock.
No lonely orbit of thought.
Only the wild.
Only the breath.
Only the quiet miracle
of being awake
and not afraid.
Only me,
whole enough to wander,
clear enough to see,
and alive enough
to meet the moon
as a friend.
