The Lunatic Moon
by Beth Weaver-Kreider
The thing is, I am a Twisted Hair.
The thing is, I believe that bridges build their own burn.
I am weaving that into the braid at this exact moment.
Some days I walk on burn
to return to the path that calls me.
Perhaps this is where the poem begins.
The thing is, when I read that line
about what I believe, I felt seen and known.
Burn your bridges, burn your easement, burn your draft card, burn your bra.
The thing is, I am simply a character.
I am devouring. I am pretending.
The thing is, I am a simple character,
made of burn, of bridge, of web.
Weave yourself a bridge of sunlight and flame. Weave an easement to the moon.
The thing is, the more I twist these strands into the story,
the less I am a solitary spider, and the more I am the moon.
We’ve learned the twinkling light of the star that refreshes, the wild light of the moon that pulls, and tomorrow, the Fool steps into the light of the sun, feeling her full power. She finds herself able to experience joy in a new way, not in denial of the hardship and pain of the journey, but because of it. Now she knows her strength. Now she knows her wildness. Now she knows her fierce and tender heart. She absorbs the power of the Sun.
1. Poetic conversation
2. Odysseys, journeys, adventures
3. This writing life, fragmented and small as it is
4. Chocolate bunnies
5. Every day a new sensation, a new color, a new birdsong
May we walk in Beauty!