By the time I finished taking all the tools
out of the truck and putting them in the garage,
dusk had largely given way to dark.
We’d postponed supper
in order to finish the project we’d started
the day before and driving home
I’d noticed a nearly full moon
in a very clear sky
on a night not nearly as hot as some in July.
And so I suggested we eat on the deck
and watch the moon.
While I was setting up the chairs
I realized that the neighbor’s huge oak tree
stood there between us and any soon view.
But I also knew
that the night was pleasant
and I’ve had worse reasons for staying up late
and waiting a while for something good is good practice.
And so we ate our sandwiches,
tilted back our lounge chairs,
and kept staring at the stars
and talking about riding on open range,
the way things can change between friends,
and how even the happenstance
of our own undesired importunities
gives others the chance
to show love, do good, and lay up treasure
that is not measured in ounces
and does not decrease in value.
And, bit by bit, the moon kept moving
through the dark branches
and soon enough—even though late—
we were sitting with the bright moon full on our faces,
absorbed in the grace of a quiet summer night
and grateful to be touched by the Light
that does not fade in the phases of our lives.