We are in the waning days of the Full Egg Moon. A few days before this lunar cycle started, I made the tiny collage above which seemed to put forth a directive: Listen, something fragile is rising. I turned this phrase into a series of questions that guided me during the past month. What are you hearing? What is fragile? What is rising? Frankly, the answers surprised me. They were powerful and have left me feeling a bit tender and exposed. Hence the silence in this space. I have been working with my little bits of words practice in an attempt to put some words around my feelings. You can expect glimpses into that art journal over the next couple of weeks. The Full Flower Moon begins on Friday.
Death pushed me to the edge. Nowhere to back off. And to the shame of my fears, I danced with abandon in his face. I never danced as free. And death backed off, the way dark backs off a sudden burst of flame. Now there’s nothing left, but to keep dancing. It is the way I would have chosen had I been born three times as brave.