The full moon shadow dances behind the foggy curtain as dusk hands the keys to twilight, who will hand them off to night. Night controls the darkness and sweet dreams, as well as the despair of nightmares, but night knows his role and will pass the keys back to dawn, who will go and kiss sunlight good morning as a new day begins.
I listen to the silence in my house. My younger sister, Abbie, steps silently in the living room. Abbie has been non-verbal for so long, I wonder if she has forgotten how to speak. How I love and long for the rare occasions I hear her voice. Some may not think so, but to me, it is one of the most beautiful sounds I have ever heard. Despite the muted life she mostly leads, and despite the beauty of her voice, there is both a beauty and a grace in her silence. In the silence that is her own, her unheard words are poetry to my soul. As she speaks without speaking, I envy her eloquence and her grasp and command of the language.
The key has been passed to night and I sit on the couch and think of things that don’t matter, but Abbie and the rest of my family do matter. My friends matter. Most of all, my God matters.
Jacob's Ladder 