After watching this last night, these words came:
4 May 2015: The moon rises all by herself. She doesn’t seem to care if anybody notices. She doesn’t seem to do so to please anyone else. It doesn’t even seem a process all that useful to anyone else. She sits there – twirling about with us in an unnoticed dance. Covered a little bit more one night. Fully exposed on another. Missing all together every now and again.
I wonder . . .
I wonder what it feels like to be the moon. Attuned, really, to her own pushes and pulls. Living by her own rhythm. Often ignored. Overlooked. Even dreaded.
But my how BEAUTIFUL she is! Photos don’t do her justice! Breath-taking! Just to sit – like this night. With every rock of my chair, she rose higher and higher and higher until in full she was aglow in the otherwise dark abyss of night. As we turn outward – literally into the unknown – she comes to greet us. Nowhere near as dazzling as her counter-part, the sun. She has no need to blaze like that; to overtake with her brilliance. Rather: simply, beautifully, with or without notice, she gives comfort to all who attentively search in the dark night. She guides – sometimes just by a sliver. Sometimes reminding us she’s still present even if she’s totally unseen.
I give thanks for sister moon! I turn to her for wisdom. Guidance. Comforting hope as I grope onward in the night.