The Moon she grows wild in the night skies; we've crested past Midsummer's Eve and the Moon will shine in her glory tonight: pending the omnipresent summer storms that have tormented the region these last few weeks. What is cooking? What indeed.
I don't know about you --- but that damn orb in the sky (my muse, and my beacon) has been stirring up some sea of madness as she is wont to do. OOOOOO I am cagey today and ready for some amusement. Good thing then that I am booked this weekend with activities a'plenty: Crossroads Guitar Festival, Pride Parade - a run in a few minutes to shake off cobwebs. But even as I plot my schedule, my tasks -- I suspect that my dear friend the Moon will blow a few surprises my way. She makes me pesky. And I sense some devilment in the air. What mischief will I be in??? What revelations in store? For always the Moon, she tests us. Our rules, our precious expectations. The things we promise or hope for - like so much dandelion fluff blowing in her midst: gone, gone, gone. Only the now. That shiny promise. The shriek of cats mating - disturbing, shrill, ugly. Children laughing in mayhem outside till one suddenly cries out. The sound of lovers: moist, panting. The breath climbing in exaltation, working ever closer to release, to death, to some halting answer FINALLY to all our questions brewing like those storm clouds on a grey green horizon of fear. Or worse nothingness.
And still we feel something coming. Or is it as Jack Keroac said or speculated "the sound of the unborn listening to us?" O'that moon and the waters she moves.
"I am a ribbon unfurling 'round a lighting bolt. Feel me. Now. I am your blood, your reason, your despair and wanting." That's what my moon cries..........and she smiles wickedly when she says this while she dries my tears.
Do we dare follow the call
or like cats ---eyes shining in the dark - watch someone else try?