“‘Heat, ma’am!’ I said; ‘it was so dreadful here, that I found there was nothing left for it but to take off my flesh and sit in my bones.” Sydney Smith
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| It's hot. |
It is hot...
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| Summer Sun through the smoke-filled air -- wildfires abound. |
...too, too hot.
The heat!
This is something I expected from the high desert, but to return to Alaska to find the same! Context is everything. I adore the heat, but it doesn't belong in this place. Not like this.
Besides, Alaskans can't handle the heat.
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| Neighbors who can't handle the heat behave badly. |
And maybe the heat is getting to everyone having a Summer on this planet. I don't know, but it seems to me that someone shoved a stick through the hive & the wasps are very angry... turning on one another.
Perhaps we turn on one another in order to ignore the much larger, much hotter problems that loom over our so-called 'civilization.'
☽◦☾
These are times when I look to the Moon. She is the purest form of Quiet Calm -- a cool, reflective lens.
Shhhh...
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| Lady Luna, cool, quiet. |
Shhhh...
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| Be still. |
Be still, chaotic little children of Earth.
Cool it.
Please.
If we look to Lady Moon as our guide, She can remind us to be quiet & look within. She watches, unwavering as we scramble about, soiling our nest & blaming one another. She will witness our end & calmly continue to witness what lies beyond.
Last night I was awake late enough to see Her sliding along the neighboring rooftops opposite the never-quite-setting-Sun. To describe the feeling I experienced as 'reassuring' would be to understate the effect Her presence has upon my psyche. Centering, calming, clarifying, a sense of succor -- none of these suffice. Hence, the inspiration for this month's Esbat poetry.
THE MOTHER MOON, by Louisa May Alcott
The moon upon the wide sea
Placidly looks down,
Smiling with her mild face,
Though the ocean frown.
Clouds may dim her brightness,
But soon they pass away,
And she shines out, unaltered,
O'er the little waves at play.
So 'mid the storm or sunshine,
Wherever she may go,
Led on by her hidden power
The wild see must plow.
As the tranquil evening moon
Looks on that restless sea,
So a mother's gentle face,
Little child, is watching thee.
Then banish every tempest,
Chase all your clouds away,
That smoothly and brightly
Your quiet heart may play.
Let cheerful looks and actions
Like shining ripples flow,
Following the mother's voice,
Singing as they go.
Blessings to you this Esbat, my friends.
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