I love to look at the moon, especially a full, blooming, and a blossoming moon high in the dark nightly sky, ascending, shinning, and glistening like a polished silver disk. I believe, the moon, affects, us tremendously, its gravity not only pulling the waters of the seven seas to tides, but fluids in our bodies responding to its pull.
How we feel at any time of the month has a lot to do with the position of the moon and that is certainly true of women and the lunar cycles they go through every month. The legend of the werewolf that comes alive on a full moon is derived form this belief - the moon, our closest heavenly neighbour is viscerally bound to us, its a symbiotic relationship that thrives on account of the complimentary nature of the earth and the moon.
The earth is a haven of life, a unique planet with water, air, and life. The moon is a dead satellite, having nothing, no water, no air, and of course no life. It is as quite as the earth is full of sound, it is as lonely, self-contained, tranquil and unchanging as everything on this earth is turbulent, evanescent, out-there and
voluptuous.
When I look at the moon, and see the shadows on its surface, I think of the 'sea of tranquillity' as the large plain on the moon is named, what must it be like on the moon, what kind of silence prevails there? how far the eyes can see when there isn't a point of reference, what does it feel like to be in a place where no other exists - what mystery! what magic! what I would not give to have a glimpse of that world.
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