Moonflowers adorned the shrubbery in our back yard at Kehena on the Big Island of Hawaii. Just as the sun set and the coqui frog chorus warmed up, a subtle ballet of movement among vines and opening flowers began. The buds posed atop long pale green stalks, laying clustered at towering heights in the tops of coconut trees, draping them with slowly-opening, pearly-white galaxies of fragrant blossoms. Elsewhere, the vines wound their way up power poles, streamed along electrical lines, their flowers glowing in the light of the full moon. The vines danced across the thorn-laden bougainvillea, flowed alongside the pathos vines, touched down, sank shallow roots and sprinted off again carrying their chalices of translucent white. The plant’s splendid carriage held each pale green, spiraled bud above dark green, heart-shaped leaves waiting for the evening’s gentle breezes to caress and tease them open. With a visible twitch, a crack in its whirling form began exposing the flower’s interior and slowly they unfurled flowered veils, releasing the exotic, intoxicating contents of its chalice to waft into the night, inviting moths to caress their pistils with their pollen-covered bellies.
In the morning the wilted moonflowers resembled Salvador Dali watches, limp and lifeless among the vines and by evening, had fallen to the ground just in time for the curtains of nightfall to open and the ballet to begin anew.
In March, 2008, I made a flower essence of the Moonflower in the dark phase of the moon. I collected the blossoms, placed them in rainwater and left them overnight in a crystal bowl. The essence has proved powerfully caring, energizing and sincere. It empowers me to come out of hiding and express my intrinsic creativity.
One of my childhood dreams has always been to be a ballerina. Perhaps that is what the moonflower essence is performing within me, empowering my wordsmithing to reveal my inner creativity. We shall see…