tmbt: another full moon
Last night, the moon – filled all the way up with new possibility – woke me in the wee hours. Few things are as beautiful or reassuring as a full moon. No matter what befalls me, the phases of the moon continue to swell and descend into themselves again and again. The cycles change but never end. The last full moon that touched me shrank away with the possibilities it presented only to return filled up with milk and honey coating the ram’s horns to bring out the warming nature of it’s fire.
This morning in the wee hours, I awoke with the full moon on my face, dizzy from the quick passage from dreaming to waking and I remembered the heart of it all. Beauty. Love. Grace. Moving stillness. She wrapped me in a white light blanket, slipped behind the mountains, and sent me back to my dreams. Today, the world is little brighter, fresher for her magic touch.