When I am finally ready to admit I don’t know how it will end, I go back to the beginning: The moon, bone white and beaten still in an inky sky. You, hands open as though you are trying to catch something that’s falling. A star, perhaps. Or me, teetering on the edge of loneliness, sanity, that tiny shivered sliver of gold up there in all that black. Looking back, I think I thought you were Orion himself, some warrior in waiting. And I, a damsel damned and destined to be broken open. Have I not spilled my whole self for you just yet? Let me offer you these last pieces, the shatterings of one unsaved. I craved that sky. And you were just a hunter longing for something to capture, conquer, own.
I just wanted to be known.
Oh, Dee, this is mystical… something about the night sky always captivates. Your characterization of Orion the Hunter (I love seeing his belt in the sky) is wonderful. And the line, The moon, bone white and beaten still in an inky sky,” is brutal and lovely at the same time. The moon sometimes does look bruised to me, and since I always refer to the moon as “she” that becomes an abused woman, that half of the sky still crying out.
Thanks for all your prayers and support during the Nina Days. I truly appreciate it. I’ll be around more now… had to take a break and collect myself. Riley handled it well. Love, Amy
Thank you so much, Amy. I have a love affair with the moon, and Orion sneaks in an awful lot, too, poetically speaking. Thinking of you and Riley, and praying, my friend. Earth life is hard. There are days I’m kinda done. Maybe that’s why I look up so much. 😉
A beautiful rendition and contemplation of the moon. She does seem to want to be known, and yet is still so mysterious all the same.