Full Moon

One of my favorite books of poetry was purchased because I fell in love with the title, "The Moon Is Always Female" - by Marge Piercy.   It started a love affair with her poetry and I still am likely to pull that book from my book shelf because the title makes me smile.

Here's another beauty by Marti deAlva -- "Moonrise Over the Garden Wall".   This is what I now call "my neck of the woods" but in the days of my purchase of Marge Piercy's poetry my neck of the woods was New York and I watched the moon rise over Long Island Sound.

Still, the faithful moon has been my trusted companion over all these years and all these miles I have travelled and I take deep pleasure in all her phases.   It reminds me that I can take the same pleasure in my many phases -- the waxing and the waning -- the fullness and the emptiness.

I can remember standing outside in New Rochelle, gazing at the moon in a January sky through the stark branches of a tree.   It was a night before it was full and it was gorgeous -- bright and clear and luminous.   And suddenly I thought "but it isn't full yet . . . I don't want a portion of life or love even if it is "almost" full . . . I am going to hold out for absolute fullness."

I'm older now and hopefully wiser.   And I think I've learned that it all has value and meaning and beauty.

And still - I am a die hard about wanting it all . . . . so on I go!

Blessings,
Donna