tmbt: crescent moon, sliver potential
I remember the first time I read Memoirs of a Gesha. My imagination took to the descriptions of geisha etiquette like a hand to a cheek. One especially potent imagined visual memory I have of the scenes was the way in which the geisha, pouring sake for her host, would ever-so-slightly hold her sleeve back as to offer a small glimpse of her wrist. That glimpse was a sliver of a peak into the world of her body, her sacred, hard-to-obtain body. And that glimpse sent a man’s heart pounding with the suggestion of fragrant, sensual possibility.
Tonight, as I left the office in the dark, I was stopped still in my tracks, breathless at the site of a setting crescent moon, quickly hidden behind obliging Boulder Flatirons as I walked West through the parking lot towards my car and away from my optical vantage point. That moon, sitting, sinking up there right now, is a mere sliver of light glowing brilliant and seductively in the WeddingsDay night sky.
What is it about getting just a peek at something so powerful that it stops our mind, catches our breath in the throat, sends heat to the cheeks, and spreads wide the lips of the mouth? For me, I think it is the implied potential. I think there may be never a time in this world when we feel the full, possible, and even assumed power of something, as when we catch only a most beautiful glimpse of it.