You Gave Me the Moon

You gave me the moon.

I came to you, heart-scarred and bleeding.
Words tumbled out; we stepped on them as dust beneath our feet
and walked on.

I fixed our dinner—
it came from the oven, edges burnished by heat
Steam sighing as our forks dipped in—
and could think of nothing to say.

I said something anyway,
So that the silence would not fall and crush us all.
And you saw my eyes.

The evening passed, not gently as it does when life fits,
But in halts and forced starts:
as I played out an ill-fitting role in a bad production.
Pretending it was real.
And you moved beside me as if I were Someone.

And, at last, we sat side by side,
I secreting tears of knowing myself not known.
And you saw.

And then I could bear my waking no longer,
and pushed the toothbrush into my mouth,
counting in foam the moments till I could be unknown even to myself.

“Come here.”
“I am brushing my teeth.”
“I know. Come here while you do it.”

You opened the blinds in our darkened room.
And showed me the moon, slatted and shining in the black sky.
It was neither yellow nor silver, but something other.
Wholly itself and sharp in its sheen.

We lay and watched its otherness.

Between bouts of troubled waking, I slept.
I woke early, while the sky still brushed charcoal across our blinds,
and I remembered, even before the day began—

You gave me the moon.

For my husband, David

Dark Night Collage

Dark Night

Dark NIght: Mixed-Media Collage

The mixed-media collage’s overall design depicts the Dark Night’s cyclical nature: successive nights and dawns accompany our entire life’s journey. The waves illustrate our sense of drowning in God’s sovereignty. Menacing, cold figures emerge beneath these waves, enticing us to give in to despair: one such “un-god” is depression. But leaping, resurrected, from the waves are souls who have emerged from the Night golden and grateful—beacons to the sufferers below.

The background, though dark, is not hollow of color—hues interplay in every section, for the Night is many-shaded and filled with marvelous diversity. It is the darkness of mystery and wonder. Two roads lead upward from the bottom portion of the collage. The first, coming in from the lower left edge, is a moving sidewalk. The other, coming up from the bottom of the piece, is a vacant house. I explicate these images in When God Walks Away: A Dark Night Companion.

The egg-shaped white sepulcher, housing both Dark-Night tomb and Dark-Night flame, is the center of action. The repeat flame above the sepulcher depicts a purgative Dark Night that awaits the sufferer. The sufferer within feels herself alone, off-balance, and tormented. She fears she has become one with the menacing figures that torment her, but her darkness is just a shadow—could she but see the transformation occurring in her soul, she would realize a golden glow is beginning already to radiate through her. She is, even now, becoming one with the One who blessed her with the Night.