Without fail, monthly, the full moon sheds
her inky cloak of night and stars
and slips a leg and then the rest into the lake,
her cool fire subtracted from the sky.
She leaves the nights more lonely, barren.
But her life is not extinguished,
merely hidden, recovering, re-energizing.
She must withdraw from sight,
make herself desirable, let her belly be lush and fertile again
so she may breath passions onto the world, be
drunk with the reckless, raucous, ribald dance of life.
She rolls overhead, silver ship of the night sky,
goddess of the oestrus cycle,
of “οἶστρος”, sexual desire.
We await her return with blood singing,
Lashed by desires we do not comprehend.
She reappears, rising from the ocean’s depths,
playing her cool blue light on
the backs of cavorting whales,
pulling ten million squid to the surface,
sending flying fish soaring across the waves,
driving life into a frenzy of mating and
feasting and dying around the world.
Then she sways seductively up rivers,
up small streams and higher on rocky slopes until,
seeded into billions of tiny droplets
on every living thing,
she leaps back into the sky, resplendent,
and spreads her seductive waves of
gravity across the face of the world.
Women sigh in their sleep and stir,
their skin flushed from the friction of moonlight,
in sleep, they squeeze hands slowly between thighs,
their water nature filling the night air,
sending out a call of longing and promises.
Men grow restless, querulous with each other,
hungers grow, urgency grabs hearts
stirred by the slender fingers of cold blue gravity.
We are pulled out out into the night,
into the dark where truth and secrets can be shared,
and the urge to feel the
welcoming touch of another,
the healing intimacy of “I see you,”
becomes overwhelming, a need
unspoken, demanding completion,
reflecting in a happy joining,
the hidden language of the moon.