Since my house
Burned down, I now own
A better view
of the rising moon
Masahide
For three nights the moon has been a crisp white disk shining in dark, blue skies. Cold clarifies the air and the sight stops my breath before it escapes in tiny white puffs. At such moments I could live on sky.
I think of Masahide and his burnt down house. The tragedy held a blessing: he had a better view of the moon. Perhaps so beautiful that he forgot he had no place to sleep, and gave thanks that the building no longer hid the rising moon from his sight.
I hope for Masahide's acceptance of life's unexpected hardships and his willingness to discover that sometimes, whatever is lost is not as great as what is revealed by its passing.
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