Lori took mason jars out into the night
to fill and cap them with moonlight
as the moon entered its first day
of the month when it could be labeled gibbous.
She transported the mason jars
to the round kiva at the bottom of the house
that the original owner built
with the Santa Fe style frame above it.
She placed one mason jar in each
of the four vaulted-arch nichos
where wooden and painted santos stood
the first day she moved in.
The silvery glow filled the kiva
with the power of four moons
and Lori’s rationalizing
this was more holy.
She sat cross-legged
in the center of the kiva floor
to enter a meditative state
that blurred the world’s boundaries.
Lori spoke childhood names
and rolled them off her second tongue
like turning rosary beads
so the world would show her
their current lives unfurled
by their present whispers
and the sleepy recognition
someone watched over them.
copyright © 2022 Kenneth P. Gurney