By: Darrelyn L. Tutt

It's 1:30 AM.
My mind won't shut off.
 I cannot sleep.
I'm in a thousand places all at once visiting the happenings of the week;
they've been of a multiplied and varied kind.
Blankets are quietly and carefully peeled back.
With a longing to be under a canopy of stars in a moonlit night, I step softly into her.
The new cedar fence beautifully encompassing our backyard allows my mind and body to retreat into her with safety.
It's unusually and beautifully quiet.
Star-studded diamonds fill the sky,
the moon is bright and beckoning.
The air is cold and frosty,
and my feet are instantly soaked in the grass's frigid perspiration.
Liberating. Intoxicating. Delicious.
I scoot back into the house for a retrieval of heavy blankets, pillows, and my beloved husband, and we head back into the night and lie quiet on our new earthen bed.
My gesture of spontaneity was received affirmatively and wonderfully.
We hold hands in the dark,
gaze into the heavens,
and share a sacred moment of intense and pleasurable intimacy.
Profound. Provoking. Unforgettable.
The brilliant moon is stationed like a golden helium balloon in the dark of sky.
  Venus positions herself to the left and directly beside,
 transmitting a sure and steady light;
 a little sister beside the big brother Moon.
The Little Dipper tips herself in a bountiful and intoxicating way directly over the top of us, and I feel the blessing of God liberally and generously attending.
 The creation and concoction of a child's story is written aloud and shared in earnest animation by me in the dark of night.
I call it ...
Venus and the Moon.
My husband crafts a few words of his own into it and further delights.
The night comes alive in my soul,
and so does the child.
Memories new of a multiplied kind now attend.
 I wake in remembrance to
  Venus and the Moon ...
tucked within me.