Moon Not Over Miami

The walk to the station was striking this evening: a full moon straight ahead over the Boston skyline, and the calm reflection of the lights from several familiar sources dancing over the Charles River. On one side the steady beacon of the Prudential: a small creamy orb on a pole of non-wavering blue. On the other side, the dotted blue of the Zakim lay on the surface alongside glowing rectangles cast down from the Museum of Science, and, all around, were scattered squares of city lights from offices of folks not yet gone, but going soon, I bet.

Some of the lights were erratic: cars, bikes, an ambulance here, the subway roaring past or trolley pulling into view over there. These were just a bit jarring, and they made me glad for the constant gaze of Mr Moon up there, above it all, illuminating earth and sky and all its neighbors in the greater galaxy.

It was also easy to imagine lights behind the lights: I think of the lights on the Mass General helicopter pad and the trained persons in there ready to help others if needed. That makes me think of other lights shining,  I hope, to welcome others in far-off places. In turn I ponder how much we need light to penetrate the dark places. Surely I can ask, can’t I, that tonight one soul be preserved from oppressing darkness somewhere? Would light in the world or the Light of the World save one street, one city, one region, or even one nation tonight, right now? Can we continue to hope for some kind of path toward peace,  not only for this one moment but somehow in many, many more to come?

I am grateful on the eve of the eve of Thanksgiving, that I can write as I walk: under the Light, over the bridge, through the night.

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