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
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 langugage,
what every other eye in this world is dying to hear?
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