Apt is my chosen name, Luna. I find it unsurprising that as the “Supermoon” ascends to her full blossom, I am as an orb in a sea of lunatics, their insanity crashing against me like waves against a buffer.
Why is it that no one seems to see the aspects that the moon creates, affecting the tides, pulling our emotions in and out of alignment. Is there no preparation to be done to offset the anxiety and chaos that ensues with these cycles?
As an embodiment of the moon, I too find myself ruled by her. But not today, today she and I are one. I stared up at her countenance tonight and felt a power resonate deep within my psyche. Perhaps I am her daughter afterall. And I am the mother of Luna as well. Thus a circle, an oroborous turning in on itself. Infinite.
I am manifesting the energies of the moon and I am also guided by her. Her aura is serenity, tenderness, dreaming, solitude and romance. I am in a place of calm when the world around me tosses up and down with the current. It’s like a pin prick of light shining on a grain of sand. You cannot really grasp it, but you know it is there.
So subtly can I be thrown far from that balance, and when those who are less aware and perhaps more malicious try to wrest me from this sense of peace, I recoil and have been known to let my darker side show.
Lunatics in a sea of misery and sorrow, pull me under like Ophelia drowning. But I will fight their pull and kick against the undercurrent of their woeful siren cries.
When the moon begins to wane from her pregnant form, will there be ashes in my grave?
