May 23, 2024 ~6:53am Pacific — Full Moon in Sagittarius
Listen to the entire post here and/or read along.
i have believed in (so many) invisible things
and sat at altars with arms full of offerings
hoping
praying
(pleading)
for a sign
a signal
a shriek
something of holiness
like a sacrament
or a too full pitcher of water
that only drips off the rocks of hidden places
to be sipped with solemnity
while everyone watches
and wonders if you can keep that oath
i laid my head at the feet of my own
longing, the kind that is hungry at all hours,
at all times,
after every meal, it waits and asks,
“But isn’t there more?”
i think death taught me
to celebrate every second
(though I don’t)
and to grab onto all you can
when you can
(and I do)
a lesson that lingers somewhere between
denial and
desperation
i can’t see anything
sometimes
but i wait
anyways
is that devotion?
is that madness?
will it be enough to make sure this temple is not abandoned?
(this temple of unseen, well-known desires and dreams,
the ones that keep me up at night)
—original poetry by Irisanya Moon
growing into desire(s)
I posted the above impromptu poem a few days ago. I was thinking about Aphrodite (unsurprisingly) and about the story of her rage. The story that called me toward her, that helped me recognize my multi-faceted-ness. The way I could be a terror and a wonder.
How screaming and laughing are not that far from each other.
In the translations I’ve read, Aphrodite becomes enraged with the introduction of Psyche, a beautiful girl who captures the attention of men from near and far. All of these men come to worship a human and, in doing so, abandon the temples of Aphrodite.
Imagine, abandoning the temples of Love.
Aphrodite did all she could to make Psyche’s life miserable, but does not succeed in her anger as love finds its way in the end. (Read the story for yourself to see.)
Desire pushes me in directions I didn’t consider or recognize until there was nothing else to see. Nothing else I could consider. For desire is the strong wind at my back, the rush of water that didn’t look all that big from the shore.
what calls you to your fullness
The fullness of the full moon keeps me awake most of the time. I stay up, not worried or bothered, but restless. My mind is often looking to think the thoughts I want the moon to carry in the month ahead. But that same mind is often distracted and inconsolable in its recognition of what I don’t have.
What has abandoned me.
What I have abandoned.
Temples to my own joy and pleasure, left covered in the dust of my longing. The longing I will remember as the moon grows again.
Now, lest you think this is a moment of sorrow, I want you to know how the echoes in empty halls ring louder than halls that are full. I want you to remember that emptiness is not always loss, but room.
Capacity. The width of wanting more beckons to me as I expand my own sense of worth.
I see emptiness because I don’t know what to put there.
But there is something coming. After all, there is room.
On this full moon, I encourage you to think of the wild and wise dreams of your heart.
Maybe you can open to something unreasonable and say its name out loud.
Maybe you can speak the words that you need to hear or that someone you love needs to hear.
Maybe you can do the thing that keeps you up at night. Even the smallest step is a step.
Desire is holy.
Don’t abandon it.
***
To learn more about my work in helping people remember the love spells they are, go here: www.irisanyamoon.com
I swear sometimes you write from MY heart. ♥️