MOON XVIII: THE SEPARATION

        How to describe that which cannot be described. Our psychologies are not one. They are manifold. The sun & the moon. The dog & the wolf. The sky & the earth. The male & the female.  The Creator & the Created. Two polarities rend us into separate halves. The fertilized ovum splits in two & starts the cascade of binary divisions that unfolds into a being whole & complete for but one moment. The cord is cut & we are separate once again. 

         Intolerable! 

        Yet here we are, incomplete - yearning for union.  It is in the reaching, in the desire to be whole once again that the awakening begins. Without that suffering I would stay asleep forever like the vastness of the eternal emptiness, oblivious,  endlessly awaiting the stirring of the Maestro’s rousing breath.

"JUST RIGHT!"

Physicists talk about the Goldilocks theory of life on this, the third rock orbiting a small sun on the outskirts of a giant spiral of stars. Through all the perturbations of time & the movement of the far-flung galaxies, a unique situation occurred. Not too hot like Venus or too cold like Mars: "Just Right".  The axis  happened to tilt to the exact angle needed to create seasons. A perfectly proportioned moon pulled at the seas. Proto-life formed in tidal pools. 

Are we humanoids with the bright eyes just the  random result of a series of propitious conditions that had to be 'just so' if we were to be at all? 

So curious - the moon's circumference fits perfectly into the circle of our sun Sol. When the two discs overlap day turns into night. There is a merging. There is a mystery. There is a majesty. Call it Goldilocks. Call it chance. I call it the Necessity.

HOWL

The dog barks. The wolf howls. 

We are tamed. We remain wild.

Two natures in one.

The world of the known; the unknown - infinitely more vast. 

 The moon lies over the sun in eclipse. 

Day becomes night. 

We can only see clearly when we stop focussing on what's in front of us. 

Perhaps words are not even a beginning. 

The howl that rises upward from the source. 

Now that's a song the wolf in my heart of hearts knows.

Crustacean

The waters of the deep. They lie dark, mysterious. Unknowable. A creature rises to the surface. Stirs the ripples. A being from a dream? A messenger? The eyes are wide awake, knowing. The gaze meets my gaze. The interface between two worlds. I must go forth now. I have been called out. No turning back.