Moonbeams shine through the window
Highlighting hands in circular motion
The sound elongating on each orbital pass
Along the Corelle plane
Muffling the hopeful crinkle of suds
She looks out the window
Her eyes following the moon path
Wrestling with her mind to focus on the task
She looks down at the wet line along her shirt waist
Pointing to the needy stack of temporary satiation
Slowly, her hands stop their motion
And she lifts up her right hand to
Capture the moonlight upon her palm
She watches the shadows play hide and seek
And feels the pull of Artemis to abandon her post
An arrow pierces her heart
And she holds her breath in realization
Quickly, she presses her face to the window
Her breath now fogs up the glass
The cooling pressure reminding her
The moon is cold and lonely like a clean plate
She notices the front of her shirt is wet
This poem was inspired by Patrick’s Pic and a Word Prompt #230 – Moon. I took this photo of the moon on a cloudy night this week. It looks so far away….
When I was thinking about this poem, I actually was washing dishes and looking out the window – this was after dinner, when the kids were still up and about and not at all tired enough for bed. The noise was daytime loud. There was nothing in particular that happened to make the day “bad” and even their after dinner/before bedtime squabbling wasn’t particularly bothersome. I was just waiting for the day to be over, so I could have some time for myself (sorry, Hubby).
It was only after all the kids (and Hubby) were in bed and the house was silent that I was able to formulate into words and phrases what that moment was like – a moment that I’m sure many mothers (and maybe some fathers) have experienced. It’s these moments that people always tell you to be grateful for because they will be gone soon enough. It’s these moments that you try your hardest to accept as just a phase of life.
I was reminded about a quote from St. Teresa of Calcutta, Mother Teresa, who said, “Wash the plate not because it is dirty nor because you are told to wash it, but because you love the person who will use it next.” Yet what if you’re having a hard time loving any of the potential people who will use the dish next because they are arguing about who’s turn it is to pick a show to watch while getting sticky ice cream and cake crumbs all over the couch? (It was supposed to be a nice treat….) Maybe it takes a saint to not answer Artemis’ call….
© 2020 iido