For the first several nights of August I sat mesmerized as the moon waxed ever closer to her fullness. At the same time, I listened as words inside me emerged. Words seeking to give form and sound to this ineffable image, to translate it into tangible substance, if only for a fleeting moment. On the night of the Full Moon, the words below were ready.
I went into the wilderness
searching.
I found the full moon
gazing
at her reflection
in the placid lake.
For days I have been sitting with the words and images, being informed and taught by them. They ring of truth to me. I have read them over and over again.
Often I have gone into the wilderness searching for answers, for a way out of confusion, for confirmation, for guidance and direction. When I bring this restlessness with me I find only noise and wind, hard stones and barren ground. When I am able to settle into the stillness within, the winds subside and the stones support me in the ground of my being. I can listen. I know the answers I seek are found in the questions I ask. Asking what and how and why and when and where begets more questions or mercurial answers. In silence the myriad questions fade. The one essential question comes home to the fullness of its answer: Who Am I?
At last, I gaze upon my reflection in the placid lake.
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