The Moon

Written while leading a retreat for the first year students of Saint Louis University this past weekend:

Tonight, the moon hangs suspended in the dark and shrouded fall sky as an ivory beacon calling to me. The clouds stretch the expanse of all above leaving few stars visible, and the outline of these specs so far away remind me that light eternally cuts through encompassing darkness. This Light has traveled far distances to greet me. It would be quite rude not to grant it an audience and instead shut myself inside putting substance between me and my ethereal guest. Almost like raising an opened newspaper in response to an old friend approaching. My midnight rendezvous with the moon draws my eyes to that above and what lies beyond. The expansive iridescent ring encircling the moon tonight suggests a radius to which it would expand in an explosion of brilliance. Staring at the moon and its halo with cold feet from dew seeping through my sneakers and smoke rising from the wetted ashes of the campfire, I find myself thinking of the many moons on the many nights I have been awake. This one seems like it is reaching out, reaching toward me in hopes of embracing my cold and confused body. The moon has been my companion. In an act of loyalty and compassion it returns each and every night to watch over me as I ponder those thoughts only allowed to expand in the absence of distraction, disillusion, and daylight. And so, tonight I seek nothing from this orb except the knowledge that it will be back again- the next night and the nights thereafter.