An October night in a house laced with moonlight
with a good friend asleep in one room
and my lover and partner asleep in another.
I realize, yet, again,
what lucky man I am in this life.
Marriages lost, earthquakes come and gone,
hearts repaired and small fortunes lost.
And none of it touches me
as I walk through these moon-washed rooms.
The Beloved loves the child
that stands into the wind
and dares to dare.
The child that says,
“Bring it on, Beloved. hold me
to the breast of this life
with all it has to give.”
Break my heart and storm my sanity
and I will still believe you to be the Beloved,
believe you to be compassion and light;
even as I prepare myself to pass over and die.
I had prayed for lightening
even though I might be destroyed.
And then I walked, some months later,
through this house laced with moonlight.
And I see here the proof that I am loved
and the proof that fear
is just the way we delay experience.
I see that, even as I die,
I will drink this cup to the end
and walk into the storm
and feel the rain and praise the giver
and know that I am a blessed child.
gallagher
03Oct2011