Full moon lighting up the sky tonight like a brilliant porch lamp left burning in anticipation of my homecoming. I count myself blessed to have someone who loves me, who would leave the light on for me if I were not home before dark. Fluid grooves and languid valleys spread themselves across this ancient iconic globe, like wrinkles on an old face, my face maybe; lazy craters worn by time and the elements, heavenly nature if you will; hills and mounds that dot the surface like embossed etchings on expensive paper, like the California desert on psychedelics, it sets the tone for much remembrance, much imagining, and much heartfelt gratitude for life. I half expect to see little Elliot riding his bike across the sky, across the moon, with E.T. tucked safely away in the basket on his handlebars on HIS way home. I see in this moon, in its theft of my sleep, an eloquence I’ve often failed to notice before tonight; every subtle shade of yellow shining like white gold on a black velvet sky, with pearl, and antique white, thrown in to complete a mix of muted, but vibrant, existential color.
Makes me happy. Very happy.
Like somebody left the light on for me.
I hope somebody leaves the light on for you.
