Blue Moon Dreams

When the celestial spheres organize such a treat in the firmament, I become ridiculously lyrical. So what if the Blue Moon is a human invention based on a calendar anomaly? I am still thrilled to enjoy two full moons in a month. And will we see the blood or not? Will the amber moon leave an orangey halo as the earth’s shadow obscures its light? I don’t care, because I am imagining the total eclipse, and already feeling the joy.

blue moon.jpg

What I do care about is whether the caressing veil of darkness will awake wistfulness or mischief in my heart.
And what dreams will I nurture as this thrice blessed moon crosses the sky?
In the anticipation, the moon calls for a poet. James Broughton responds…a trickster, a maverick, and a quintessentially Californian mystic.

Every day I grow a dream in my garden
where the beds are laid out for love
When will you come to embrace it
and join in the joy of the dance?

Ecstatic poet, memoirist, playwright, translucent film maker… his voice invites us to engage with everything alive, it insists we play with the gods and the muses....where the beds are laid out for love. 

Come forth unabashed
Come out unbuttoned
Bury belligerence
Resurrect frolic
Only through body can
you clasp the divine
Only through body can
you dance with the god
In every man’s hand
the gift of compassion
In every man’s hand
the beloved connection
Trust one another
or drown

And you? Will you welcome this moon when you see it? Will you feel the umbra touch your cheeks?  In the alignment of our three most beloved spheres, will you remember something you have lost? As Broughton would say…. 

Could you wake to the innocent morning
and follow the risks of your heart?

Will the little bird of the heart sing of wondrous wholeness while magic happens above?  

The Hidden Singer
The gods are less for their love of praise. 
Above and below them all is a spirit that needs nothing
but its own wholeness, its health and ours. 
It has made all things by dividing itself. 
It will be whole again. 
To its joy we come together -- 
the seer and the seen, the eater and the eaten, 
the lover and the loved. 
In our joining it knows itself. It is with us then, 
not as the gods whose names crest in unearthly fire, 
but as a little bird hidden in the leaves
who sings quietly and waits, and sings.

~ Wendell Berry ~ 

Sit with the moon, if only for a few minutes. After gazing into her face, open the door of your dreams to her. Invite her into your art, your collages, and into your poetry. Listen to the powerful synchronicity of tonight's alignments, find the message she whispers for you, turn it into images and songs. 

If you are looking for facts, here is a link for some science:

and a link for times:
I look forward to seeing you in 2018...before the next eclipse!