Beneath the Cold December Moon

It is as though the poetry of the naked winter trees lives inside of my veins. I could stare for hours at the beauty of their dark complications as they reach for the wide white heavens. Lost in the static silence of their deafening communication, I swear they, too, possess blood, a heart, nerve endings. Not to humanize them but to remind us that we are creatures from another world beyond this one. Perhaps I am drawn to the faceless for reasons I have yet to understand. This one sodden life where we grovel close to the ground and rarely, if ever, bother to look up. Wouldn’t it be easier if I liked the things I was supposed to like. If my mind would just stop bending into the perverse, desperate for the richness of the distorted. If I didn’t fantasize a thousand alternate lives and choices. Wouldn’t it be simpler if I did what I was supposed to do and allowed it to satisfy me. We bludgeon our energy, our magic, with the mundane. We waste so much time questioning ourselves. Cold and alone beneath the full December moon. The things I dream about you’d never be able to believe. But they exist for me so vividly, so radiant and sensual in the bareness of their private, intimate truth. I close my eyes and taste the rain and I could be anywhere at all. Anywhere at all so far away from here.

26 Replies to “Beneath the Cold December Moon”

          1. Oh my goodness my heart just burst into a million bits of pink confetti, dear Laura!! ๐Ÿ˜ Oh I do so hope you enjoy Luminaeโ€ฆ I am truly certain in my soul that she cannot wait to meet you. โค๏ธ๐Ÿ˜โค๏ธ Iโ€™d just love it if you let me know your experience. ๐Ÿ•Š๐Ÿค๐Ÿ•Š

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            1. Absolutely will! I peeked at the โ€œLook Insideโ€ preview, but then closed it quickly so I can have the full experience when it arrives! Iโ€™ve perused through your IG, too, so I have no doubt I will enjoy it. I also love how rays from your soul are revealed in your replies to others here. โค๏ธ

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              1. You are amazing! I cannot even express how humbled and grateful I am to know what I create brings you joy. That is literally everything to me. โค๏ธ The souls here on WP are like souls from the most gorgeous magical alternate universe. Almost a complete escape from the mad cruelty of the outside world. The acceptance I have felt here has at times literally brought tears to my eyes. Iโ€™m so damn grateful. ๐Ÿฅฐ

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                1. What you create brings me much more than joy; it brings me to myself. Yet there you are, too. It brings me around a different way when I already thought I was sufficiently off the beaten path enough. I follow your voice into the shadows I avoid to see they are beautiful and soothing, too. It seems your heart may erupt black ink at any moment, but there is actually pink confetti inside; how very curious! Yes, please! I’ll have some more Allison.

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                  1. These words of yours right here are such a gift to me, Laura. To hear your singular soulful experience, Iโ€™m ecstatic. I feel I donโ€™t even deserve it. I am desperately attracted to the shadows, it is true. They call and I come, I have to. I need them, I crave them. All the while I somehow encounter the most radiant souls along the way who understand, how rare you are and how exquisite. And to be graced with that sliver of reflection of myself in someone elseโ€™s third eye, that is heaven to me. Duality collapses. Joined by darkness, we become each otherโ€™s light. You are sheer magic to me. โœจ๐Ÿฅ€๐ŸŒ™๐Ÿฅ€โœจ

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                    1. I try to (now) only write of the light, but I’ve spent most of my life appearing to others full, while alone on the moon-side turned away. (I used to write as Tektite Tears). You lead me to dance between and among the sun and shadows, in and out of the light and dark, when there is fear on both sides, but none seem able to stick when I twirl and swirl them both together. How freeing. How beautiful. That dance. You are sheer magic to me, too. โค

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                    2. I know exactly what you mean about โ€œappearing to others full, while alone on the moon-side turned away.โ€ It is a cruelty this world burdens us with. But now we know the secrets of our prismatic selves, donโ€™t weโ€ฆ on our own damn termsโ€ฆ we come to know we are so much richer than they ever dared let us imagine. My goodness how you have made my Sunday oh so gorgeous, Laura. Thank you so much. โค๏ธ๐ŸŒน๐Ÿ•Š

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  1. I relate to this so much. Dead trees whisper to me. They call unto me. Plantation trees too. Oh, and Cypress… I admire the life of a tree yet feel inspired by the death of one. Something I’ve never understood but perhaps it isn’t meant for me too. Thanks for sharing.

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  2. This surely was a treat to read. the poetic essence pushing for a deeper connection of another life force. Like the trees endure the coldness of life so shall we, but as human we have questions, instead of just being only a tree… but we all reach towards the heavens. Love this!โค๏ธ๐Ÿ™

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