Walking With the Moon

Today I woke up early…as I am prone to do…before the ebony of night gave way to morning blue. As I stepped outside to walk listening to the crickets croon…the sky was illuminated ever so softly by the light of a crescent moon. Crescent moons always fill me with hope…it’s the classic push and pull…as some see the moon half empty…while I see it half full. There is so much I wonder about the moon as she welcomes in each morn…I wonder if, out of her crescent-ness, a baby’s smile is born? Does she revel in the silence of the world she oversees? Does she know how beautiful she is as she shines down through the trees? Is she content with her nightly routine…or…when all is said and done…has she ever dreamed what it’d be like to be a planet or the sun? Does she realize, as I do when I step outside my door, how neither one of us is exactly the same as we were the night before? Does she know how many lovers in her soft glow have been made to swoon…when they exchange their hearts and promise each other the moon? Does she hear us when we thank her…the moment we become aware…how she adds enchantment to the evening…just by being there? Perhaps that’s why I love rising so early…and listening to the crickets croon…because I don’t want to miss one morning…walking with the moon.