I have a relationship with the moon...

Childhood

Lying in the back seat of the car. Watching the moon stand still while the rest of the scenery rushed by.

Other Night Lights

My dad (who always carried me in
 from the car even if I was fake-sleeping)
 and me on a road trip to Cali.

Driving highways late

at night sitting low in the back

seat. The slow arc of a spot-

light in the sky. Searching

for something really important – 
alien life or missing children. I didn't realize for

years that it might be prosaic. A huge

sale at a used car lot or the opening

of a new supermarket. Really, it was about

the beam slicing like a light saber

in slo mo. Me low in the back

seat, imagining infinity.

Adolescence

It is a hippie infestation...

When I was a teenager my friends and I held Full Moon Festivals. As a result the moon became our communion, our gathering point. We were a family; we frolicked, we watched the moon rise and set. Often we would still be there at dawn. I lived at the edge of the Puget Sound. The connection between the moon and the tides is science at its most magical.  Our low-lying driveway would flood with the highest of the tides. I cannot tell you how many hours I spent - happy, angry, thoughtful - at the beach.

Current

I am going to the water

don’t follow me.

Lifting the hatch and riding

the current, you might see the other

side of madness – fishes and loaves

and crystalline shards of goblets ground

between our teeth melting

to slink between my toes. Where

they came from.

I am going to the water don’t

follow me.

In the foam my toes feel the earth

move beneath me standing at

the center of stillness. All of the turns

I have ever taken are putty

in foreign hands. Tiny sillicates drift

glistening from side to side, looking

for home. But not homing. What you

think I might be I have never been.

Through every ripple I will

hold you. I am going

to the water

do not follow me.

Adulthood

My relationship with the moon has become complicated, as is true for most things in adult life. Now that I live in a city I sometimes go months without noticing the moon. When we lived in New Mexico the moon was very present. The moon is both the upsurge of passion and the constancy of the tides. In this month of the blue moon - I want to call forth the passion.

Incantation

Stand with me in this tilting lot

wet black cement of the just rained.

The sky is orange to the east and

deep purple to the west. Look up

at the trees and wires filled

with mewling Grackles. Barbed

wire against the darkening sky. The air

chill and damp; I wrap

myself.

The way the dark birds move together

squid ink sprayed across

the water. And the sound – Alien

earthy whispered screams.

We won’t go inside for ice cream. We

shouldn’t be placated by creamy sweetness. Stand here

with me. Rub the rosemary between your fingers. Look

back over your shoulder. It is just enough to be dangerous.