My mom left me a message on my phone last night after I had gone to bed. I'm walking a path - new to me yet familiar to so many who have walked this path before me -- the frightening path of alzheimers. As I get ready to return my mom's call this morning I remind myself that she is scared, confused and as Hafiz so eloquently professes in his poem ... is simply saying "Love me."
With that Moon Language
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
Why not become the one who lives with a full moon
in each eye that is always saying,
with that sweet moon langugage,
what every other eye in this world is dying to hear?