Seasonal Salon

Waning Moon

Almost the young moon, this sliver, this shining crescent. Same shape reversed. Same pattern cut from cloth of night. Same dance danced with winds of night.

The moon’s boat turns towards the dark port as tide ebbs towards the heart of earth.

I stand in soft darkness, ready to embrace the great change. No more will I say this is the moon’s decline, that it fades and dies, that its power wanes. No: this is a different birth, a surging into change, into the unknown within the known.

I open my arms to the sky and breathe in the night.

Into the dark moistness of my body, I receive the darkness.

The boundary between inner and outer dissolves. Growing darkness outside, unknown familiar within. The edges of my body soften the edges of my mind.

Somewhere a waterbird calls, once, sharply, a wild laugh. I ride a cascade of loss and joy and fear and yearning, all of them at once, all equally fervent and surrounding. Everything is change, everything in flux. I am in flux. I descend into deeper darknesses, holding my arms above me as I turn slowly, breathing heavily in the dark.

Breathing in the dark.

Above, the moon glides down to set on black lake waters. Again, the bird calls out, its laughter a great swoop upwards, then a plummet down.

Breathing in the dark.

"Waning Mood" is from Seasons of the Witch, soon to be re-issued by Creatrix Press
© Patricia Monaghan ~ All rights reserved

Category: Fall Equinox 2004