Call me Atlas. I held the moon today. What a wonderful experience. I’m not really sure how to describe it – my back muscles were doing some work. I picture those muscles in the shapes of fleshy boomerangs. When I wiggled my fingers on the top of the moon I thought I might be stirring up dust, or moon creatures, or astronauts. The moon I held was glowing – maybe due to the dim light of my lamp.
Is it narcissistic to think we can hold the moon? Is the moon held by the oceans and tides, or is it the other way around? What comments would the moon have on earthly climate change – I’m guessing the moon has all of the answers. Do us commoners think about our impacts on the moon as we do on Earth? I heard something from NASA about sea level rise and the moons wabble – then our axis, orbit, etc. Obviously I didn’t pay close attention as I scrolled to the next cat video on my phone. What an existence – the moon might wabble in my lifetime and my span of attention lasts less than an internet video.
There is something so romantic about the moon. Goodnight Moon was one of my favourite children’s books. I’m tired – I’m the moon. Floating or grabbing – free or burning – invisible energies take time to feel, but they are there.
Today is a not-sure-what-to-say day.
where rivers are born 