Our vigil nearly done; the fire embers drowning in ash. We watched the full moon go new, then suddenly wax again––a month coiled into 5 hours. We fed our fire on pine knots and burned our way through the dragon, arriving safely on another shore––the moon shared a few secrets along the way. I was worried about her, cut off from the light of her beloved sun, but in her red-pearl fullness, she was blushing with another light––one entirely her own. Somewhere near the heart of the dragon, I found that prayer is light.
The Art of Letting Go
Beautiful..like her.Thank you.
Words as beautiful as the blood red moon and ever present to enjoy ! Thank you,miss being with you,will come after norb gets well,but that’s going to be a while.