When the House Was Quiet

Tonight I went outside by myself after the little girls were in bed and laid on the trampoline.  I told my secrets to the moon.  And listened for her wisdom.  I watched stars appear like freckles on the twilight's face.  I listened to my neighbors plow and fell in love (for the thousandth time) with living in the country.
I promised myself that I would not say cross words to Lily tomorrow.  We make sparks, that one and me.  And almost every night I go to bed heavy hearted about it.
I thought about the relationships in my life that don't feel right.  And wondered what parts are my fault.
I wondered what it really looks and feels like and means to be whole-hearted. And wondered if I am.

I thought about seeing the good, forgiving, giving the benefit of the doubt, being gentle with vulnerability.  And hoping gentleness in return.

And a hundred other things, too.  And then goosebumps poked up.  And the cat spooked me.  And the sprinklers needed to be turned off.  And I came in to write a bit.