Moon wears no makeup.
Her craters show the impact
of intimate liaisons
with heavenly bodies.
And her face shines bright to us
while the force she gently casts
sways the seas and tugs our hearts,
binding us together as one.
The inspiration for the poem Lunar Bound came one evening after I commented to my husband on how beautiful the crater scars are that spread across the moon’s surface. When I look upon her bold face, I am struck by the fact that our closest companion in space is devoid of spreading seas, lush forests or cloudy skies that would soften the effect of meteoric collisions. In the glare of the sun’s intense rays, the moon shines back to us revealing furrows and ridges of impact, blemishes and fracture lines. Nothing is hidden.
Because I have chosen not to wear makeup to cover the effects of aging, my face is also showing the impact of life. Laugh lines and brow wrinkles, squinty-eye creases, skin tags and minor discolorations are showing up. Perhaps if I subject myself to hormone-replacement therapy, I could soften the effects for a time, but I’m choosing to go a more natural route in support and celebration of the transition through menopause and the aging process. Therefore my interest in the moon is personal and I acknowledge her as “changing moon.” Once a symbol of ripeness and fertility, she is now a symbol for my creative endeavors and impulses.
Humanity is intimately linked to our heavenly sister moon who some say because of her size, could be considered a sister planet; however, earth might be considered moon’s mother. With modern technology to accurately analyze and date rocks, it appears that billions of years ago while our planet was forming, a protoplanet the size of mars collided with earth and the spin-off of this collision was ejected into space. This spewing of plume material then spiraled into current lunar orbit , coalescing into our moon with one side appearing to forever face us due to her unique length of planetoid rotation.
Before birth, even before conception, as we waited in the ovaries and testes of our ancestors, we experienced the waxing and waning of the moon’s daily rhythms just as we experienced the spiraling of our planet, our sun, and the solar system. Part of me quests to know the logistics of these ancient rhythms, yet a greater part accepts the rhythms and is content to acknowledge there are greater forces at play in the wondrous formation of space, time and being. (To be continued in Part II)