I’m crazy for the moon. I love watching its phases, and receiving its reflected light. Last night I was outside absorbing and appreciating its rise, and now early this morning I watch it set.

I’m reminded of Hafiz’s poem as translated by Daniel Ladinsky.

With That Moon Language

Admit something: Everyone you see, you say to

them, “Love me.”

Of course you do not do this out loud, otherwise

someone would call the cops.

Still, though, think about this, this great pull in us

to connect.

Why not become the one who lives with a full

moon in each eye that is always saying,

with that sweet moon language, what every other

eye in this world is dying to hear?

Yesterday I was fascinated to learn about Wind Phones.  Catherine Browder in New Letters, A Magazine of Writing and Art writes about Mr. Sasaki, who in honor of his favorite cousin who died, set up a telephone booth with an old rotary phone because he needed to “talk” to his cousin about his grief.

After the 2011 Japanese earthquake and tsunami disaster in Otsuchi, where he lives, he opened the booth to anyone who wanted to talk to their loved ones.  He calls it “the phone of the wind” because the words reaching out for comfort aren’t carried over a phone line so they must be carried by the wind.

The author of the story decides to create her own “phone of the wind”.  A carpenter friend makes the booth. Knowing Mr. Sasaki’s phone booth has a path with a wooden bench nearby, placement is discussed and honored so those who need to talk in private, can come.

In May of 2011, three months after Japan’s disaster, a devastating tornado blew through southwest Missouri picking up her husband’s truck. He was killed.

She goes to the booth to talk to those she loves, sees these conversations, as “the only way I know how to shape a prayer”.  She’s not the only one; people come.

I have space in my yard for a booth, but maybe a bench will do. I don’t need a phone and a booth.  I can use the sun and the moon, their movement and offering of light. I can watch butterflies and birds, knowing one day I, too, will learn to fly and navigate the wind with inner light opened without boundaries of space and time.

Meanwhile, still early here, an owl hoots, who, who, who, vibrations on the wind.

If you are called, you can watch a documentary on “the phone of the wind”
Rising moon last night

Setting moon this morning
Owl beckons the coming of fall

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