Moon Sanctuary

Moon By Moon
I have sat beneath the moon—
in stillness, in ceremony, in reverence.
Not one New Moon unnoticed,
not one Full Moon forsaken.
Each dark moon, I plant a seed—
a whisper, a wondering, a sacred beginning
born of silence and soul-sight.
Months pass in breath and becoming.
Under that same sign, the harvest calls—
I gather. I release. I remember.
I pull the weeds. I bless the bloom.
This rhythm has carved me.
Softened my edges. Sharpened my seeing.
Brought me home to myself.
As the moon moves her sacred wheel through the sky,
she teaches me the art of return.
Of letting go. Of beginning again.
The waters she stirs upon the Earth,
she stirs within me—
rising and falling in a language older than words.
Each phase—waxing, waning—
echoes my own becoming.
She is compass and mirror,
guide and guardian.
And so I honor her.
Not with grandeur,
but with presence.
With candles. With ink. With intention.
With the sacred ceremony of showing up.
Moon by moon,
I am rewritten.
Remade.
Remembered.