Wolf Moon

You come waning through
And full bring me to you
Wide in my view
Pulse quickens too


Anyone else obsessed with our moon? As a woman (and as of most things in nature), my cycles follow the Moon… life evolves and flourishes because of the Moon. So many mating rituals in nature itself, under her glow. And so I always see the moon as feminine energy. Or feel rather. We’re made mostly of water, I feel her tug. They say she’s spinning further away, and one day Earth will no longer be able to hold her. Yet on some days she feels closer than ever. Some dismiss her powers. I write about her alot in my poetry. My pets think the Sun goes to sleep at night, and the sky gets angry and cries. The wind is an entity too, especially in Florida with the hurricanes… BUT when I told my dog we needed the water the sky cries, I saw his mind expand I swear… ๐Ÿค“

Anyhoo, I wrote this during that recent wolf moon we had. I have a lot of stuff I’ve started but haven’t finished. Some may never see the light of day. But even Edgar Allan Poe’s unpublished stuff wound up getting published. My words are my legacy really. And my words are the only thing I have control of right now. And I never know how many I have left. How many words have I used? What’s remaining? Nothing is infinite. Everything dies. I mean, one day, this fucking galaxy will be gone… poof. Vanished. Our existence completely annihilated. Dust. Bones. Gone. The only thing that matters is right now.

Sorry to get deep on you but it’s now 3 AM and I’m feeling socially deprived and chatty. โœŒ

And if you didn’t catch the double meanings in the poem, I was referring to how a certain person quickens me, and there’s a slight sexual reference in there. I always tell people art is subjective though including poetry so you get from it what you get from it. It doesn’t have to be what the writer wrote… โœŒ

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