The indistinct sadness of a curious mist revivifies itself in a vial of auroral moonlight. Stretch out your legs, stare into the void, and visualize yourself perched on the moon. Someone whose name you’ve forgotten wants to tell you that what happened in the past has yet to be determined. A wise mystic once wrote: “Glance at the sun, see the moon and the stars.” Tread lightly into darkness.
For today: the color of fluorescent light, red jasper, music in the key of G, the scent of pinyon nuts, and the egalitarian discernment of juniper.
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Waning Gibbous Moon
The moon is 20 days old