Not all moons are created equal. The syrupy depths of the dark moon hide treasure in their treacle. They reward your surrender. Some days and in some lives a tall order.
The dark moon is always heavy. It fatigues us if we fight its imperative to slow, to still. Only in the quiet of the dark can we hear the whispers of our soul beyond the din.
Depth charged memories float to the surface. Strange new melodies play on the horizon. Things feel veiled and appear gauzy, uncertain.
We sleep and dream unevenly as the done within us coils and craves release. Our discontent opens the channel. Our willingness effects the relinquishing. We make space. We ache.
Rest balms our weary. Stretching unkinks our tangles. Musing lets our mind off the chain. Inspiration is our shepherd to what comes next and is held in the formless darkness. Ripe. Ready.
Let yourself get lost in the dark. In finding your way through you will once more bloom anew.
The rose has told
in one simplicity
that never life
relinquishes a bloom
but to bestow
an ancient confidence.
~ Nathalia Crane
Venus Invisible and Other Poems
Words and image c. Kerrie Basha, 2018