Saturday, March 19

An Ode to a Supermoon

"Take me to the edge of the land" she said with a sigh carrying the weight of Venus. "I need to feel the waters of her living womb." The sound of those new swede brown boots from Spain were the first thing she noticed slipping back into her body, as she made her way down that wooden pier.

There, she saw the pastels dancing. In each wave a desperate attempt to be noticed on the dawning of this super moon twilight evening in March.

"You know, we're made of 78% water" she said to her dear comrade sitting by her side. Shivering, they watched the tide receding following nothing else but natural law. There was a kind of silence that held them both in the stillness of that moment of her glorious rising at the horizon.

Amazing how fast time moves. Even more astounding how deeply one can sense that motion in the moon.