Luna

 

The usual three a.m. waking happened today, though this morning after taking care of the immediate urge, I noticed the palest light coming in the windows behind the sleek modern tub and opened the door to the outdoor shower area – snow white towels glowing on their hooks, in that light – closing it quietly behind me. The moon, still so full and palpably “super”, was hanging right there a bit above the fenced wall, beaming at me through the silverly veil of the early morning fog over the mountains just below it. My heart opened and I tapped into it’s light and fullness in ways that defy explanation and have everything to do with trust. Trust that tis is always here, for me, for all of us; that this connection is so primal that nothing can separate us; that the light inside me answers to this light source above me, whether I deliberate tap into it or not.

 
I stood there, and let it enter into every cell of my being, transfixed and unable to move. I’ve no idea how long we stayed like that, just the two of us, or so it seemed, until a bird called and woke me and I felt the chill of the night air.
Slipping back under the covers, I thought about all the people I love – the one beside me, the one I brought into this world, the others I’m connected to in inexplicable ways that feel much like this connection to the moon. Do they know that they are tapped into that glowing ball of who knows what, the one that brings the tides in and out, the one that helped me to birth my daughter and myself? Do those of us who are born under a full moon feel it more or is is a God given right that each of us human beings has, though we are often oblivious to the connection?

 
In the morning, of course, the moon had vanished, leaving only wispy fog which the sun would waste no time in clearly. The moon, it seems, has moved into my heart. Once tapped, perhaps it stays with us, a never-ending gift.

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