Full moon rising, and my queendom is flourishing. Hiding behind the tree tops, a whisper of clouds further obscures. At any moment it will break free. A carefree struggle of ebb and flow with the clouds, it's dazzling to observe. The halo is rising...and now it's falling. I could watch this interaction for hours. Maybe I will.
Is anybody else watching this? It's amazing to understand that others, in this very moment, are experiencing this. This golden orb rising above, among the sea of clouds, the horizon fast fading. Waves are cresting through the moon now, partially obscuring it. The clouds seem to be holding the moon hostage.
The May Day moon is called a 'flower moon.' I witness a moon-bloom requiring no sunlight to flourish. Much the same I can say for my queendom; my garden blossoms with midnight varieties.
Clouds have enveloped our orb. Fade to darkness, excepting the silvery outline of the clouds. What a playful moon-show I am taking in. The horizon now an ocean of crashing waves. The whitewater rollers toppling over each other.
Here comes the heavy gold coin, again. Popping it's head up through the waves like a buoy. Gone in six seconds. I wait. I watch. I am captivated by this treasure chest. A pirate ready to plunder.
This luminescence; so soft in such a hard world. The audacity! Now parting the waves of the sea of shape-shifting clouds, it's breaking out in a sprint, taking the lead on the celestial obstacle course. No cloud shall catch up to it — for the time being.
Fiery ball. Moon mirroring the fire I left on the trails today here in the mid-Atlas Mountains. As I fought for my freedom cycling today, I watch the moon fight for its freedom. This IS that coveted 'post ride glow'.
Now, a rowboat, the orb, sailing atop silvery sea-clouds. Vying for my attention. Demanding my affection. Gold cooling into metallic silver. Celestial alchemy in my queendom.
A lighthouse, now, as motion ceases. Moon settles into stillness standing sentinel over my queendom. I'm no longer in pursuit; I'm being pursued.
I'm at a loss in penning what I am witnessing. Moon has disappeared in a rip in the fabric of time it seems, yet the celestial searchlight beams across the hazy horizon restlessly interrogating my queendom. Sovereignty is a brilliant weight.
Long live this light. Long live this night
