Full Moon Magic

Author's Note: shared in honor of this past weekend's Full Moon cycle, I started this poem during the April Full Moon cycle and completed it today.

a half millennia ago and more
              this mid-night waking
		           gazing the magic of moonlight out the window
              would have been more widely welcomed

forgive our frustrated shunning
              pill-popping of appropriated names
                                          Lunesta and the like
                        forgetting your light means more than sleep

your rhythms 
              not built by Ford 
                            in service of mechanized humanity
                            or profits over planet and people

if, perchance, more were to embrace you
             unlock the logic of escape 
                           from this humdrum existence
                                          rats on wheel
                                                          humans on clock
Full Moon revolt 
              against this time we’ve been tolerating
                           keys right there in your pocket
                                        Mrs. Moon
                                        or is it Ms. 
                                        no

Mama Moon
             under whose beams
                          elders’ wisdom 
	                               and youth’s beauty 
		                                    are equal
             understanding you’re just as likely to suckle an infant
                          or soothe a sick child
		                                   from your womb or another’s
                                       as you are to make sweet love 
                                                   with your beloved 
                                                                 under glow of this
                                                                               magic moonlight
has me awake at 3 something
             penning meditative poems
                           typing wild tales
	                                 constructing meaning from man’s chaos
             the hours when rawest truth comes out
                          the Witching Hours, yes
                                         whatever that means

Full Moon surveyed the telling of tales i never forget
	      the young boy deep in jungle night’s darkness
                          checking traps by solitary lamp light
	                               alone 
                                       until 
                                       a mysterious touch on his shoulder
                                                    spins suddenly to see
                                                    no one 
                                                    nothing
	                                                          returns to task to find
                                                               	  lamp flame has died
		                                                                 i awake from my sleep with a start
		                                                                 sure i felt the same mystery touch

Full Moon that rocked ancient grandmothers back to sleep
	      let her lull you back to dreamworld
		            wrapped in the embrace of a myriad of ancestors 
                                         whose moonlight we share

thank you sisters-strangers-friends 
             for passing on the message
                          these nights are sacred
                                       these waking moments
                          not to be shunned as malevolent hours deviating from capitalist clock

embrace them

Full Moon that gathers broken family to rebuild 

Full Moon infusing single bodies with electricity of connectivity
	      vibrating on another frequency 
                                         tonight
                             long shadows cast like magic spells 
                                          hold limitless possibility 
you mighta thought you were alone but
              you’re NOT
                           not here
                           not now
                           not ever

Full Moon lights the path to Freedom
	      illuminates sacred ceremonies
		           bathes the broken bodies of maroons
		           with the healing light of hope
			                 changes humanity’s trajectory		
				                      redeems subjugated
                                                                   disinherited 
				                      the wretched who shall reign again

thank you, body, for remembering
                          for re-member-ing
               just this little bit of stardust
                             one amongst billions
                                        seeking reunion with Mother Moon
                                                     every time she is full
reminding us we are One
              united in sacred circles in her light
                            circles circling the globe
                                          linking us
                                                        time immemorial
                                                                     future sprouting from the seed of 
                                                                                  waking Full Moon dreams