The Moon with her silvery light Is full in the indigo sky Illuminating the shadows with her glow She has been swelling all week Tonight she is full In her fullness she whispers "I shall sit with you my friend in the dark On the days you fear that your light has gone And lend you some of mine For I to wax and wane And will remain with you here Until you feel ready to shine again" ~ Georg Cook
When I write, I allow myself the freedom to follow my words. Allowing them to flow where they wish, pausing often when hints of other ideas arrive. No matter how fleeting a thought visits, I trust in the memories that arise.
Asking to be written.
Asking to be shared.
This week my writings travelled to the moon, reminding me of her companionship, and the annoyance that arises when attempting to capture something of her beauty.
It has in many ways been a frustrating writing week. Just when I thought I had the idea of this piece it slipped away from me. Just like the moon herself does when she is waning. My writing felt as if it were journeying with the moon, only the words were being concealed from me at the same time. Perhaps this is why the moon remains one of my constant muses. For like the sea I am lucky enough to live near, neither of them stands still. Always in constant movement. An ebb and flow through time and space.
The moon has her own way of doing things. Unapologetically she keeps to her own rhythm and cycles. I deeply admire her for this, for the uncompromising arcs she dances with the stars. For her rebellious nature to always remain true to herself. For the inability to speed her up or slow her down. She is always exactly where she needs to be, according to herself. She nurtures such wisdom for our time.
To thine own self be true.
As a child I remember sitting in the back of my parent’s car as we journeyed home from seeing family. Watching her, THE MOON, through jet-black cloudless skies. In total awe of her beauty and grace. From that car window, I remember being fascinated for hours over how the Moon seemed to follow us as we journeyed home. Have you ever noticed this? How the Moon regardless of the direction in which you are travelling seems to be moving with you. That perhaps she is following you home, keeping you safe. Like a silent protector or guardian.
Back then I thought her beautiful. Today I still believe her to be beautiful. Such is the Moon’s imprint onto my heart, soul and mind.
I have often wondered as I gaze at the moon, how many other people are also gazing upon her in that exact moment. What are each of us thinking when we look upon her. Are the people gazing with me making wishes or setting intentions under a new moon. Are they releasing fears and doubts under a full moon. Are they merely seeking comfort from the great companion of the skies. Are they trying to capture that illusive perfect photograph of her.
Sometimes we all need the light. The Moon offers hers when we perhaps need it most.
It is a bewildering, yet comforting thought I find, to think that as I gaze at the Moon, I am sharing that view of her with hundreds upon thousands of strangers that I shall never meet. Across different countries and continents all drawn to her beauty. To her silvery light. Such is her captivation of our emotions and imaginations. The invisible connections that are woven in her light.
If I think further, I wonder who else, across time and millennia have also gazed upon the Moon. Were they gazing upon her in worship. To seek clarity and answers. To honour the nature cycle of the skies.
The moon holds the threads. Those of the past, held by our ancestors who have gone before us. Those of the present, of which we are guardians. Those of the future, for those are still to come. It is us who weave them together.
The moon remains my companion. She is the keeper of my story. The holder of my truth.
One of my favorite memories of my son is when, in the car, he asks "Why is the moon following me?" Thanks for sharing your story!
I loved reading this. I do remember as a child, looking at the moon, driving in a car and being amazed as it followed us.
I still love to go outside at night and look at the moon before I go to bed.
I used to tell my grandchildren when they were younger, living in different states to look at the moon at night and to know that I was looking at the same moon thinking of them.