I am a Libra Tonight the full moon is in the sign of Libra The scales. It is in my power to balance And walk down the middle path. It’s hard to see the middle When you are acutely suffering. All the tools get swept away And become inaccessible. Just reaching to grasp them Seems like additional effort. I am in a holding pattern. Can I accept that this is my condition And trust that answers are coming? To rest a little more while I can? The final slumber before action. And it is my choice. I am not just being thrown about With the fury of the tide. I can let go. Trust that I won’t drown While I wait for safer shores. It can be scary To surrender. I plan on resting Until I have some answers. I will write. I will be inspired. I will move gently. I will accept where I am Patiently aware That change is inevitable. Image from https://foreverconscious.com/libra-full-moon-ritual-april-2023
Tag: full moon
The blank page is my refuge (part 2)
The blank canvas The blank page The clutter-free desk The cleared-off cooking space. The beginning of something not yet created. The infinite potential The spark of creativity or action. To create something And fill up that space with something new That never existed. And that’s why I return again and again to the page: To a clean space, To make/create something. It is the meaning of life. If we are all creative, It’s the perfect medium to create. I can set the tone of my day, Which sets the tone of my Creative, connected life. On full moons, I always have vivid dreams And creative insight. I capture it here. The page holds all of my fears And creative dreams. It makes my creativity a reality. It is a give and take. A creative relationship That I take action toward And life works. It works for me. I feel light And in a mastery of my life.
Open the window to love
When I open the window to love, I let in more than just fresh air or a better view. There is love in the air. A love of autumn Bright, true colors shine through Surrounded by the abundance of harvest. Juicy apples and round pumpkins to delight with flavor and possibility. The aromas, the sights, the sounds of squirrels skittering and kicking up brush, a treasure in its mouth. It is survival instinct to save for a cold winter's day. I take a mental note and decide to write what I'm grateful for to reread for myself on a hard, cold day. The harvest full moon rose last night and I watched it take its usual path across the night's sky. In my mind's eye, I am looking at its face as it kisses me across the cheek. Such wisdom and stories it holds.