My Moon

Lately, for reasons that I cannot certainly pinpoint, I find myself thinking about the moon. It is obviously a beacon for those of us in the hopelessly romantic club. The way that it lights up the nights sky just makes me feel like, under its enchanting rays, anything is possible. With the cool night air dancing around my skin, I walk around, awestruck, at the wonders, the mysteries, and the hidden treasures of the night.

I have this tendency to get words or phrases stuck in my head. Instead of song lyrics, I may have a line from a book that I browsed at a bookstore or a quote that I stumbled upon online. Today, and this past week, I have had the phrase, or rather the idea of the phrase, of shouting yes towards the brilliantly ebullient moon. The inspiration comes from a poem entitled The Invitation by Oriah Mountain Dreamer.

I want to know if you can see beauty even when it’s not pretty, every day, and if you can source your own life from its presence. I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand on the edge of the lake and
shout to the silver of the full moon, “Yes!”

Perhaps that has been the impetus of my moon craziness.

Maybe those words are what have been keeping me up at night, craving to venture outside in my nightgown and get a better picture of the moon. Maybe it reflects what I am feeling- endlessly hopeful and somehow the length and the stretch of the darkness of the night mirrors the hope that I have. Perhaps the streaming moon beams reflect the pockets of chance and adventure coursing through the seemingly dark world around me.

It is my moon. Guiding and inviting me.

image source

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