Phases and Reflections: Moon as Metaphor
In response to the First Week of February Nature Prompt
I love the moon, and I write many odes in her honor.
Below is a favorite prose poem that I wrote last winter, about one month before I pulled my son from public school and we began our homeschooling journey.
The almost-full moon rises in the east as we play a game of catch in the backyard. She ascends the beryl sky, glowing beyond the edges of her pale, round frame. My son is in a time of turmoil, yet we find joy beneath the gloaming sky, passing one thing or another between us. Behind me, the sun sinks into foothills; I see how he gazes at the moon, and she at him, perfectly tracing each other’s arcs through time. I see how the moon reflects her beloved’s failing light from across the vast and wild expanse between them. She will not let him fade from this day without upholding his brilliance, creating a second dawn to hold sovereignty in darkness. When my son throws me the ball again, I know that I will catch it.
Do you love the moon? Does he inspire you? Please read the First Week of February prompt from Sahil Patel:
