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Jun 2023 · 166
Winter Sun
Heather Moon Jun 2023
The Winter Sun

Uncoils
Over the world
Reaching little light tentacles
Into hidden crevices,
Smoothed over the cracking bark of pine and cedar,
Kissing awake arbutus and hawthorn,

Leaving a trail that rises just as steam from hot coffee does,
A residual warmth like the palm of grandfather,
“Good morning” he softly says as he gently pats my back,
And I feel the tenderness of this love in my heart.
“Good morning” I say in a whisper
As the sun takes my breath away,
As I breathe this breath with the sun,

A breath
for the whole waking world
fills my lungs.

The Sun,
with the same curiosity as a child,
Peers into the damp forest floor,
peeking under salal bushes and fallen fir boughs,
and Springs awake
Winter’s blanket.

Perhaps I am wild to say
I wish I could remember this
moment forever,
And moments like these
Which tear me apart and bring
me back together
All at once,
Moments where I am awestruck
By the glorious beauty of this dance.

So I am wild
and bathed
In the gleaming light,
As golden dewdrops sparkle
like stars around me,
As vapour shadows rise,
and green moss beckons to be
touched by the
tendrils of sunlight.

So I surrender
Into the arms of perfect harmony,
the love of a singing forest,
as if it's the only thing
I know how to do.

And it’s as if,
for a fleeting moment,
The sun truly touches
this Earth home,
while we in turn
Stretch towards the sun,
And for just one sweet breath
we share our hearts,

Together as one.
Jun 2023 · 93
Drive by towns
Heather Moon Jun 2023
I watch the mallard ducks, tundra swan, and other waterfowl swim in circles, close to the spring-fed river where the ice, which has steadily swallowed the entirety of the lake, hasn't yet touched. The birds, presumably, are dipping and diving for food before the last moments of daylight slip away. Evening is rolling in and the sun glints across the mountains in the distance, stirring a sense of presence from deep within me. I catch my breath and watch the trail it leaves in the frigid air. It's been awhile since I've written anything. Staring upon blank pages wondering why what was once so easy has become an insurmountable task. I have come to see how writing is an act of love and to be honest I've been out of love with parts of the world. Avoiding my own feelings of discomfort and dismay. Time spent driving through towns which edge highway after highway. Who are the people who live here, what are their stories? Thoughts ramble and race from within me. My curiosity itches. My heart feels a longing sense of compassion for these broken towns. For the stories which have ended up unfinished, discarded like novels lacking the soul moving momentum to make it beyond the gas station book aisle. In the orange light I see billows of smoke rising, hollow faces trudging to the outskirts of town. I see a man crumpled over a grocery cart of bottles to the side of the highway. He is on a sort of mission, where that is to, I wonder. Perhaps another unfinished novel. I think about him and his life story, about the generations of him. I wonder how his hands look or how his feet feel walking day after day bent forward like that. I ache trying to put myself in his shoes.
I have been avoiding my feelings, I have been wanting to paint pictures that cover it all up and put roses boldy over the hurt. I want to accept that this is just part of life. Ever so often though my feelings seep in too deep and I can no longer withhold the barriers to my own truth. I imagine the children of these broken towns and I wonder where their dreams go. Zipping past a world of T.V's and fast food diets, cigarettes and flashing motels. Sometimes I can not turn off the faucet of my emotions and so with a sinking heart I watch the smoke of industry billow.
My mind creates stories of the place this used to be. Maybe it was once like the lake I sit at now, where aspen and willow softly dance together, where the thrush and fowl chirp with hope of a coming springtime. Ponderosa pine stands tall and mighty, and at her base the tracks of fox, deer, and rabbit may be found.
I marvel at the utter magnificence of creation, the perfection of the pink alpine sunset softly wrapping around me, the silence of winter where deep below the surface life secretly brews.
I do not know what to make of these stark differences in creation but I am grateful for the poetry woven into it all, even the poetry in the pain.
Passing through yet another bleak roadside attraction in the long winding night of echoes. I can't help but allow my mind to race and ramble itself upward and away, just like the billowing factory smoke, steadily rising into the crisp and starry night sky.
Jun 2023 · 93
Jungle
Heather Moon Jun 2023
There is a jungle
Inside my heart
Wildness drumming
In every pulse
Its hard to understand its order
With its chaos
twisting in every direction
With bone shrieking madness laughing from within its canopies
But it is highly organized
To those that can see
Through the chaos
And
Into the eye of the storm
Jun 2023 · 84
Dinner with my Brother
Heather Moon Jun 2023
Dinner with my Brother

I don't mind baby slugs
In my salad greens
Picking away at them before I eat
Reminded of the connection
Between me and the Earth
that grew this meal
I am reminded to be grateful for even the slugs served a role in tonight's supper.
I think of salmon bones being returned to the earth
And I imagine the forest soils eating up the rich nutrients
How bears have filled their bellies with salmon from the rivers
And how the salmon bones have fed the forest
And how the forests have provided for the land
Providing shelter for the salmon
I think about
These cycles often

Just Like I think about
The last time I saw you
Glimmering in the sunlight
Laughing brightly as we ran along the street
And in a flash you were gone.
It took me many years
To understand how this too
Was part of
a greater cycle

I kept seeing you
In everything I touched and breathed
I cried river's of tears for
What felt like years
Greif and love being
Yet another cycle
I found you
In the songs of the wind
The birds flight
And the morning light
As it danced around me
As it begged me to open my parched lips
And drink in the dawn of a new day
To feel it
Wash through me
Cleansing me anew

It's taken me sometime
Crawling through the depths
of darkness
To find
My own cycle
And ryhtmn
Here on this earth
But more and more
I come to see
How we must tread
Lightly
With love and presence

So I slowed down tonight
To watch the sunset
Sink deeper into the skyline
I thought of you
And I felt the waves lap at my toes
And softly the glistening moon rose
And the cycles
Continued to circle around me
Every which way I looked
And I felt the softness of peace
Within me
And I felt you
In all things

Cycling forever
In this moment
This rich incomprehensible
Yet simple
Moment,
Yet another cycle
Of infinite life
Simply circling round
Jun 2023 · 90
Of the Same
Heather Moon Jun 2023
Greif has
Clawed at my insides
for many years now
Greif like a river
I could choose to tear at the shoreline as the current dragged me
Or I could surrender into unknown currents
Allow it to take me
And so I fell in
And it brought me on quite the journey
I was broken open
I let go of who I was
And I grieved who I was before
And I grieved
Like a river song
Which needed to journey
With no inhibitions
No ego games
No fear for being
Raw
I feel that greif will always be with me
An old friend waiting silently at the gate
I've learned
It has just been a journey of love all along
love and greif
Are of the same source
They are of the same river
To greive is to love
To love is to grieve
A deep bow to those
Who have allowed greif and love
to etch itself into you, to dance
Through you
Reminding me at a time when I needed it that I am allowed to be
That I am safe to surrender.
Jun 2023 · 89
Autumn
Heather Moon Jun 2023
The apple hangs alone
Stooped down on its bough
Morning dew drips from its skin
The rising day slowly sinking in
Autumn is fading fast
Reaching for sunlight
hoping it will last
Soon enough we'll all be feeling winters wrath
But before then
Icy grey mist shrouds
And this lonely apple tree
Stands desolate in a farmers field
Beckoning to be picked
While the rest of the world
Remains in clouds
Jun 2023 · 92
Thoughts
Heather Moon Jun 2023
The larkspur tuck into the Reed minnows
Evening up guppies and grub
I stare out at the lake
Wondering why its taken me so long to write
Something, anything
It occurs to me that writing is an act of love
And I've been out of love with many things
Avoiding my feelings
The feverish sense of disdain
Upon seeing the glows of the city.
There is a sense of pain I feel
For the earth
For humanity
Seeing billows of smoke rise industry
These broken towns
Where I can imagine
Children
In there cribs parents watching t.v
Fast food diets
Stories where
The big brother
Is never good enough
I don't know how to turn off my faucet of emotions sometimes
So I don't bother
Entering the room with the running sink.
The ducks merganzers, birch bark, pine, aspen, willow, lake, glinting
Alpine
Frozen ice snow.
Jun 2023 · 73
Dust
Heather Moon Jun 2023
I seem to look for you
In all places I go
Sometimes I cling
To the memory of your
flesh
Your beating heart and gentle hands

But what is there to cling to now?
Its all just
Dust dust dust

So the walls in my home
Are dust
The mantelsills and coffee cups
Are all just
Dust dust dust
And I wait for you in that old familiar chair
Covered in
dust dust dust
For these days it is the only thing
I know how to cling to
And I want to hold onto something
But even then
A gust of wind easily blows through
these fragile walls
And scatters
The dust dust dust

I look for you
Everywhere I go
On my wedding day, my graduation, even in my lonely walks
Looking
For you
Looking for
dust dust dust

Particles of stardust
Blowing in the wind



I go to peculiar places to see if I can find you
Like hospitals
But all I see is the clinging
That familiar feeling
That itches deep in my belly
The clawing kind of sorrow

As if we could hold onto a piece of mortal flesh forever
As if life was eternal
And I do believe it is eternal
But it's all just eternal
dust dust dust

So I cling to dust instead
of the impermanence of
flesh and bones
But its hard when I remember
How beautiful a hug can be
Just how beautiful a hug can be
And how I long for my heart to touch yours again
How I long to be met by you
Not this dust
The emptiness
Of the night greeting me again

I see you in my dreams often
I wake up crying
With my remembering
I still reach out
Only to find the dust dust dust

I try and stay in old homes where there is more dust
Where there are stories etched into the floors and walls
I cling to your dust
I keep it close to my heart
I gather it in my basket of hopes and prayers just as I gather the seeds for my garden

But sometimes there are these empty mornings like today
When I wake up alone
And there is no dust
In this home
And I have nothing to cling to
Just sprawled out naked
Before the sea of life

So I went to watch the sunrise
Which still hadn't dawned
And I reached out to the sky
Because I miss you
Like an aching in my soul
It's like I swallowed chards of glass
When i realize you aren't here



I never looked forward to dying
But here I am
And who knows if there is heaven
Or if I'll be reborn
And even then
You may not be with me
Maybe I'll wake up one day and it will all just be
dust dust dust
Whispered like a cute joke from the creator
That I need to wrap myself around for a while to understand

There is a gift in creators whisper
The dust that spirit blows every which way
And so I hold my hand out to the sunrise
Feeling the dawning warmth glisten and the birds echoe

And I try not to cling this time
Though I ache to hold something
Instead I try to know
That everywhere I go
And every sparkle and glimmer I see
Is this
dust dust dust
From every dancing tree and blooming rose bush
Every twinkle in an eye
And a heart bursting open
There is
Dust dust dust

I felt you
All around me this morning
So I let go
Of the dust to which I cling
Only to find  more
Dust dust dust
Like a reminder
That you
Are everywhere and in everything
Just as we all are never that far away.
Jun 2023 · 532
Seen
Heather Moon Jun 2023
Look at me
In all my ugliness
Look at me in all my beauty
Lips quivering to overcome
This separation
Do you dare to see me in you
And do I dare to see you in me?
Freeing from the illusion
That we are not of the same essence
Welcoming in
This raw reflection
Boldly growing twisting witch
Primordial tiger
Deer of death
Opening the gateway
The ravens mystery
Dawning
Be bold
Dare to grow
To this wild witchy hearts twisty curvy song
Jun 2023 · 77
Drive By
Heather Moon Jun 2023
Just another drive by city
Sometimes I cry
For what we've done to you
I see you
So innocently
Still reaching for the glow of the sun
With nothing but love in your palms
I cry
With fists wailing
For the pain
We've cut
Into your hide
How can I ever begin to apologize
So I just feel the soft animal
Of my body resting on you
So I just hold you as you hold me
And fall into
This sense of solidarity
Jun 2023 · 73
Alpine Days
Heather Moon Jun 2023
Many paths await
Should you choose to wander
So with thirsty souls
We dipped our toes
Upon a trail
Blazed by wild Heather
And the scent of sun warmed
mountain huckleberries
Wrapped in the
protection and sweetness
Of an undisturbed
mother bear

We nestled our bodies
Into her valleys
Seduced by her song
the sacred source of water

Climbing upwards bit by bit
And breath by breath
Each step
We became stripped
Of the old world Inside
A soft returning home
to Our true nature

And then suddenly
Or perhaps patiently
We made it to the land of the giants
Where we swam in her oasis
And drank water from her chest
Before  the land lay to rest
And thoughts of how to give back
To this mighty creation
Danced in my chest

As sunlight slowly dipped
Behind thorny peaks
Of rocks
Which rose up out of the sea
So high they climbed
as if they wished to return
To the stardust
from which they came

We too nearly touched the shooting stars
With a sweep of our hands
So close we were
To the mystical viel
between two worlds

We slept like honey
Golden and flowing
And arose like honey
Soft and glowing
As she arose like thunder
With the power of an eagle
soaring across her beating beast
Over deep green valleys
And way down into the
wild blue of a far away ocean

Up here we could hear
The source of her song

And from deep within
her voice called to us
As we called to her
So we lovingly found the place
In the center
Where our two worlds met
And slowly
we felt the pulse
of our hearts beat
Together as one
Jun 2023 · 59
Poetic Journey
Heather Moon Jun 2023
And so the poetic journey begins.
From somewhere in the stillness of silence there is a whistle,
the one only you and your soul alone knows.
It resonates so, so much, deep harmonic waves settling slowly. It calls to sleep all unrested ideas, it brings with it a great power, a humbling strength...

The whistle blows only once though, so listen carefully. And in the gentle seas, and in the roaring fiery seas, it is then up to you, and up to the universe to decide, whether you heard the call or not.
Jun 2023 · 50
Lifetimes
Heather Moon Jun 2023
I could spend an entire lifetime
Studying the lines in this tree
Smoothing my palm
over warm arbutus
Studying how she curls
and reaches out
To the wayward winds

I could spend an entire lifetime studying
The lines in your face
And learning of how each story
Of you
Brought you more into your skin
And sunk your eyes in further
To the place they always belonged

I could spend an entire lifetime
slowing down
Listening
To each song
The chickadee carries in the wind

I could spend an entire lifetime
At the shores of an ocean
Studying
Each drop of water
As she splashes to this shore

I could spend an entire lifetime
Wondering
But never knowing

I could spend an entire lifetime
With your hand in mine
And you would still be
a beautiful mystery
Before me
Jun 2023 · 71
Panting
Heather Moon Jun 2023
I want you
To stare deep into my eyes
Lay your hands upon my *******
Caress me
Squeeze me
Feel my juices rising
dripping
I want to feel you
feel
Your heart
And how it shows up in this world
I want to feel your journey
Etched into your soul
as you come inside of me
Slowly
So I may be with you
As you are
This intimacy
Stronger than ever before
This connection to you
Arousing
Like chords of red
rising
Slowly
Warm pink energy
Kissing you and me
I want to feel you
Deep inside of me
Blood hot
Bodies rock
I want to be enveloped
In the Ecstacy
Of our two spirits colliding
I want to feel your hardness
gliding
Inside my wetness
Riding
Into comic bliss

I miss your kiss
The softness of your touch
Smoothing over my skin with Grace
Feeling the gentleness upon your face
As you open me
Penetrate me
rock me
Like I'm the Earth
and you sky father
Sliding through my silken valleys
Feel me as I feel you
Squeeze me so every part of me
Can feel you deeper
Make my cheeks flustered
Twist me open
Hot breath Panting
Letting you in
To my sweet golden rivers
Blue fiery mystery
Enter me
Together we open
Together Set free
A union of spirit
Of earth and sky
Of animal bodies rising
Steam and sweat
Colliding
Flesh breathing
Hearts beating
Oh Beloved,
I love
The way your feeling...
Jun 2023 · 53
Her
Heather Moon Jun 2023
Her
Sometimes I seem to have forgotten
Of her body here
Beside me
Her
Warm honey *******
Supporting the sky
Her Silken Valleys
Breathing here in this now
Ever present
Always
In the stillness of the moment
I feel her
Amidst the moons soft glow
The peaceful glistening snow
Sparkling in pristine midnight
I've been lost time and again
Forgiven too many times
But here she is
Once more
Accepting my apologies
Breathing with me
Tender hearts grow
When left to stillness
I feel my own grief
As truth settles into my shoulders
The difficult choices
We are left to make
Her silent call is with me,
Her protection
Washing over me
As I lean into her
Learning
Time and time again
How to be with
All the awkard movements
The discomfort
Being human can sometimes bring
Worry seems to be in my heart often these days
But she is here
Listening quietly
I'm sorry
I love you
Please forgive me
For my humanness
But she just listens and accepts
For nothing could be wrong
Unless I'm lying to myself
Am I lying?
Once again
I'm questioning
If this is really meant to be
She just listens
Patiently
A mirror reflecting
As I move and grow
Through this body
These hands
This human
Through my incessant mind
Filled with questions
When my heart knows
The answers
She reminds me
To pause
And return to my breath
So I do
And I see her once again,
I am in awe
Of her spectacular beauty
Finding the wisdom
In her rolling hills
Finding the place
Far beyond my woes
Where Stillness speaks
And the glistening
forest grows.
Jun 2023 · 54
Into the night
Heather Moon Jun 2023
There are times
I like to go out in the night
When its rainy and the wind howls through the trees
Like claws reaching outwards to catch presence, the wind showing me the steadyness of my womb.
This interesting confluence of emotions which lingers on my breath and pulls itself from my bones to be seen by the grace of night.

When I go out,
I like to let my bare skin touch the Earth,
So I may feel what cold feels like,
So I may feel what I don't always feel,
So I may bring my presence to this other kind of medicine.

I like
To feel what the night feels and
To feel my own trust
In the sturdiness of the trees around me as they are rocked by the wind and rain.
To trust I am safe here even when trees shake, to trust I am held here, I accept all here.

I like
to feel what it feels like when I allow myself to sink in deeper.

There are times I go out alone
Into the night when It's stormy outside
And not a soul whispers
Except for the sound of steady earth hymns softly singing.
My hair and my body, my heart and my soul are free here.

I find myself here time and time again
Because I like to feel this place of discomfort and comfort, of familiarity.

I like
To listen to the gentle silence
Found within the echoes of the murky night.
Because I like to feel
Even the grief
Of this earth.
I like to go out alone under this dark dripping sky which becomes a blanket, lay in this rich forest canopy and I become a child unto this land.

I find myself here time and time again,
Called over and over,
But I know just why.
It is so I may
feel this
Intimacy which I feel nowhere else
It's so I may feel what it feels like when
my heart beat is
Beating alongside
The beat of this earth
and
When our lungs are breathing
The same breath of life.
Heather Moon Feb 2020
Feathered skin
Soft heart
Hold my hand
Just like
We are children
Running freely
I wish to kiss your lips
Cup your face in my palms
And pull you closer
like nothing stands in the way
Of such temptation
Inspired to be the wind
Caressing
Every wildflower
Singing to this
open road
Of freedom
Sep 2019 · 176
Mountain Love
Heather Moon Sep 2019
The morning sun rises
Onward to some delicious mountain surprises
Beaming Orange skyline
Pink clouds so fine

I surrender to the longing in my heart
To wrap itself around you
An insurmountable
expression of love and gratitude
You bring forth a magnificent magnitude
A force that flows through me
Golden waters
Honey nectar dripping from my body
Calling to you
Reaching this delicious peak of love
Sep 2019 · 232
Forgotten Musings
Heather Moon Sep 2019
Where did that forgotten time go
She asks, curious
Staring deep like water
into my life of photos

And I wonder
How once I was just like her
Curious and free
Now a domesticated rose that rests still within a vase
Dust gathering in the petals,
She looks upon the marred photograph,

Time slips like a crescent moon upon the horizon,

Where did the wildflower of my heart go I wonder
She looks at me and sees herself,
I look into her and
I see myself.
Sep 2019 · 204
Kin
Heather Moon Sep 2019
Kin
Tonight drums beat in the after world
As my ancestors sing loudly for the ones coming home.

Tonight the sky painted herself the deepest blue I have ever seen,
Winged creatures cry out to this spreading landscape.
Stars shoot brightly upon mothers canvas.

Tonight my breath is heavy
So steadily I fill my lungs and watch the vapor freeze into the night air.

I am melting between realities,
dripping slowly into the unknown.
Tonight I am anxious and alive,
I am swallowing myself whole.
Awaiting calm to let her voice be heard through the silence.

I can feel the world shaking,
The moon turning her tides,
As ancient oceans lap against shorelines...
As ancestorial songs
Pulse in my heart.

Tonight I can feel the drums beating in the afterworld...
My blood carries their song.
Sep 2019 · 134
Heart of Silence
Heather Moon Sep 2019
I'll meet you here
In the heart of silence,

When Dusk has drunk his last sip of day
And nights slips in like a silken whisper,
A single flame to light the way.

When the frantic running catches up,
may you succumb.
When all is left
are desperate prayers
Sent to brazen skies,
may you listen.

I'll meet you here,
In the heart of silence.

We hold these bodies,
Unsure of what is us
Or what is the universe around us,
Dancing stardust.

And what do the ocean waves take
and what do they leave?
What is ours to hold
or to grieve?
To let go of,
or to retrieve?

Surrendered unto the
Wisdom of this Earth.

I'll meet you here in
the heart of silence,
The place
Where life rests her wary bones,
And truth reveals her gentle song,
Where wisdom and knowing slowly
wrap themselves around you,
the pulse flows soft and strong,

And all else falls away.
Sep 2019 · 145
Soul Journey's
Heather Moon Sep 2019
A Late night saxophone wizard has set up shop on the lonely streets. A night rider, he travels by bike. Composed of Mysterious magic with a red velvety soul.
He exudes juicy music like milky ways swirling into this wilted night. Reviving the hearts of parched souls of these desolate streets. He calls to flaming spirits long after the midnight hour.
The Bellows of smooth jazz catch my ear and I'm sparked alive.
Mischievously young
and free
with nowhere to be.
Sep 2019 · 147
Greif
Heather Moon Sep 2019
And sometimes I wonder
What the ocean feels
When the snow has melted
Into the rivers which flow freely
Back to the ocean,
And if she greets them
Like the heart of a greiving parent
Holding their child for the first time
sinse many moons had passed.

And sometimes I wonder
if this is why the river sings
So beautifully on this journey home,
A silent knowing, a hope filled prayer.

Sometimes I wonder about how the ocean gives her love and life to help birth the rain and snow so the river may flow.

And sometimes I wonder
If my ancestors have touched this same water, how particles filled with ancient tales have formed clouds which burst over and over, each drop of rain carrying it's own unique story.

And sometimes I wonder about how many waters have been mixed over time and
how many Oceans have met.

This is the life blood which ties us together.

Sometimes I wonder what it means
To be woven with the same rhythms as the rhythms of this Earth.

And sometimes I wonder about
My own life and the changing tides,
how we give pieces of ourselves away, like how mothers give themselves to their children
And trust like the ocean.
Sep 2019 · 121
Ocean Thoughts
Heather Moon Sep 2019
I find my peace in the ocean
Though why would one choose to find their peace
In something that's changes so much
Tumultuous waves, rocky shorelines, calm stillness
Sunset serenity
Yet it is these changes that I find my peace in.
Sep 2019 · 120
Night Owl
Heather Moon Sep 2019
There are times
I like to go out in the night
When its rainy and the wind howls through the trees
Like claws reaching outwards to catch presence, the wind showing me the steadyness of my womb.
This interesting confluence of emotions which lingers on my breath and pulls itself from my bones to be seen by the grace of night.

When I go out,
I like to let my bare skin touch the Earth,
So I may feel what cold feels like,
So I may feel what I don't always feel,
So I may bring my presence to this other kind of medicine.

I like
To feel what the night feels and
To feel my own trust
In the sturdiness of the trees around me as they are rocked by the wind and rain.
To trust I am safe here even when trees shake, to trust I am held here, I accept all here.

I like
to feel what it feels like when I allow myself to sink in deeper.

There are times I go out alone
Into the night when It's stormy outside
And not a soul whispers
Except for the sound of steady earth hymns softly singing.
My hair and my body, my heart and my soul are free here.

I find myself here time and time again
Because I like to feel this place of discomfort and comfort, of familiarity.

I like
To listen to the gentle silence
Found within the echoes of the murky night.
Because I like to feel
Even the grief
Of this earth.
I like to go out alone under this dark dripping sky which becomes a blanket, lay in this rich forest canopy and I become a child unto this land.

I find myself here time and time again,
Called over and over,
But I know just why.
It is so I may
feel this
Intimacy which I feel nowhere else
It's so I may feel what it feels like when
my heart beat is
Beating alongside
The beat of this earth
and
When our lungs are breathing
The same breath of life.
Sep 2019 · 172
Dance
Heather Moon Sep 2019
There's something so special
Within those who devote themselves to dance.

Not the form, the practice, the 1-2-3 step to the side type of dance but rather the dance being spirit.

Those who leap to the moon and sing to God with every twist of their pirouette type of dance.

The grace and surrender as spirit cries through flesh type of dance.
The dance that needs no music because the rhythm beats on within
type of dance.

The silence of our bodies reverberating off of hardwood floors, our pulsating breath breaking the air around us
type of dance.

The dance which is a leap of faith as we throw out hearts forward, cast our egos aside and dance...truly dance type of dance.

There's something so special about dancing
When we dance for freedom.
Sep 2019 · 125
Say Yes
Heather Moon Sep 2019
I get scared
Hoping I'm making the right choices, hoping that my intentions are coming from the truest place within,
Hoping that my heart is guiding me to the medicine I need,
hoping I will stay protected on this path, hoping the foundations I build with each breath are sturdy ones which will flourish into fine forests one day.

I'm sure you are just as scared, maybe for different reasons and maybe you have different hope's in your heart.

But I know your scared too,
together we hide in this fear.

And in fear illusions form easily,
We trick ourselves into believing in these fears, fears like flickers of fire flashing ferociously. Deception.
We feed them with our doubts for the dream seems too scary, too surreal, too un-attainable. The fears become fed, the fears become real, and so the trust vanishes and the fears dance before us. Challenge us.

I know there is an eye beyond the fears. The eye of observation patiently waiting for loves return.

Yet here I am again,
afraid to come out of shells for the world can be bitter and once one tastes that sour milk it is difficult to open a palm to receive more of the unknown.

Here I am afraid to hold hands,
Afraid to walk into what we both know is possible,
A whole galaxy of dreams exists
yet somehow we hinder ourselves at the base of the daring cliff.

For the dream seems almost too real.

Yet I have a desire
Which runs so true
Like the river of my heart beating through
And I want to breathe through this fear and listen to my river,
I want
To trust my hand in yours.

To trust that we can breathe through the tough times together,
And trust that this leap
Will support us,
That the Angel's have been listening, that a lifetime of prayers has been
just waiting
For us
To say yes,
To choose love.

With a fertile heart
Open like a lotus flower
upon your alter,
I'd like to
Walk with your hand
and
To say yes to love
To say yes to you
To say yes to the unknown
To trust I am exactly where I need to be
And to hope
That somewhere the Angel's
Have heard my yes and
Are smiling!
Sep 2019 · 121
Heart
Heather Moon Sep 2019
Giving your heart back to yourself
Isn't what one would expect,

Like a sea of flying butterflies, a bright cheery marriage to oneself celebrated with wine and fancy horodeurves.

It isn't
Fireworks and explosive love.

Giving your heart back to yourself after having given it away to the sea of the wild stormy world
Is a slow journey,
It is like watching one raindrop
Slide down the car door window
As You the passenger wait for something yet are found here
amongst the steady presence beating.

Giving your heart back
Is holding yourself unable to sleep at night, it is longing for your own arms, longing for your own kiss, nothing more intimate than this yet being unable to grasp the fullness, the wholeness.

Giving your heart back
is missing your family
It is wishing you listened when you felt something wasn't right.

It is missing your 5yr old self
It is pain
It is greiving

Giving your heart back to yourself is
Deep breaths and long stretches of silence.
It is comfort and desolate bike rides at sunset.
It is green and fertile,
It is warmth and big mugs of tea.
It is
Slow and delicious
like melting chocolate.
It is patience
And acceptance.
It is aching and laughter.
It is messy crying.
It is innocence
And maturity.

Giving your heart back to where it belongs is not fireworks, it is not a loud display of affection,
It is a delicate dance
Of dedication.

Giving your heart back to yourself
Is the long winded path you know you must take
And take alone,
it is the bow of commitment and the sigh of release.

Giving your heart back
To yourself
Is
The steady rythm that follows and hums with you gently
On this walk,
As you hold yourself
And slowly make your way home.

Giving your heart back to yourself
Is realizing
All of the scattered pieces
Have been in you all along.
Sep 2019 · 148
The Eagle's Journey
Heather Moon Sep 2019
I used to have a million words
within my head,
racing to slip from my lips or
write their way out of me.

Now I find it is difficult to write.
There is no longer a rush or race
to place my passion on paper.

I find I can only write from honesty now,
that my words must expand freely from the heart.

There is less trying only graceful flowing, listening to what each word has to say,
listening for the words which wish to bloom forth into this present moment next.

There is space, there is breath.

I used to dance like a maniac,
needing to rid myself of myself,
needing to explode with colours to feel satiated.
At times I still dance ever so wild
yet I have found when I slow myself and listen
I can feel each toe of this beautiful body whisper with life
like wildflowers growing
and it is then which I feel this love for dance rise.

I used to think I knew so much but now I accept
this grand sea of mystery which lies before me
and the tiny particle of sand I truly am
upon these shores.

I used to love fast
as if each breath were my last.
Now I love gentler
as if my heart were a mountain which pauses
before allowing the morning sun to pierce
through her ripening valleys.

I used to be scared of being seen,
occasionally I catch myself still living this fear
but now I smile at my vulnerability.

I used to leave my roots behind as they were powerful melodies
I wished to not hear
And now I welcome home each strong note of this song as I return.

I used to strive to be whole but now I wrap my arms around my chest and honour this ruptured heart which has broken open so many times yet still drips with sweet golden honey.

And now I find my wholeness
amid this cracking masterpiece.

I used to run
but now I soar.
Sep 2019 · 234
May You Return
Heather Moon Sep 2019
May you return home
To this beating heart

Like a bird at dusk,
Retreating softly.

Return
To the place
Where flesh intersects breath,
remember this
taste of heaven,
The holy matrimony
Between spirit
and body.

May you return home
to this divinity,
Where blood meets bone,
Where
the symphony of sound and colour,
Sparks aliveness in every cell
and each
little
movement you make.

May you return home
To this tender beating heart,
To the centre
Where the
Earth washes over you
And the Sky holds you
And all your prayers.

May you return home
To the fragrant orchards
Of your own blooming soul,
The sound of your own flowing song.

Remembering the importance
You have here,
how this very place is where you
create your own special magic,
The magic the world beckons
from you
At this time.
Listen gently.

May you return home
Sweeter than ever before,
Dip your toes in golden honey,
fill your belly with the moon, and
Bath your heart in the sparkling oceans.
Fill your own cup with your light
and fill it
Beyond the brim this time.

Easy love, difficult love, patient love, silent love, peaceful love,
loud expressive love,
Slow love.
Allowing yourself
To seep all love
into every crack and crevice
Of your thirsty being.

May you return home.

May you return home
And
Write the love letters
You always longed for,
Fill your aching sorrows
With your own inner knowing.

May you return home,
To the dance of how you truly move,
Releasing constraints,
Feeling laughter and liberation
With every drop of the shoulders.

May you return home,
Wiser and plenty,
Stronger and ready.

May you return home
To a rich rolling field
Across the plains of
Your own naked spirit.

Drench yourself
with the nectars from
An orchestra of flowers
In full bloom,
Make the intangible tangible.

May you return home,
To your own ambrosia,
A Sensuous oasis.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And if the waters do not flow
So easily,
Maybe they are hiding.
Be here in your weariness,
Be here in your discomfort,
Be here in your acceptance,
Be here in your gentleness.

Be here in this now,
In your stillness.
This sanctum,
This temple
Of light.

May you come home
However you are,
Light and Soft, like a butterfly
Or
Worn and weary
From footsteps and long days
or even years,
Etched into the fabric of your soul.

May you return home,
To your own
Resting place
Of peace.
To the silence of this forest,
The valley of this chest,
the flow of this winding river.

Your own arms are waiting
outstretched,
Ready to hold you.

May you feel the softness
Of your own pulse
And smile
With the remembrance
Of your own
Special light.
Jul 2019 · 133
Trust
Heather Moon Jul 2019
Sometimes I wonder
What the Ocean feels
When the snow has melted
And the rivers flow freely
Back to her,
And if she greets them
Like the heart of a greiving parent
Holding their child
After many long moons or lifetimes
had passed.

And sometimes I wonder
if this is why the river sings
So beautifully on this journey home,
A silent knowing, a hope filled prayer.

Sometimes I wonder about
how the ocean gives her love and life
to help birth the rain and snow
so this glorious river may flow.

And sometimes I wonder
how many rivers have crossed, how many waters have been mixed over time,
and
how many Oceans have met.

Water is the life blood which ties us together.

And sometimes I wonder
If my ancestors or ones who've walked before me have touched this same water.
How these particles filled with ancient tales have formed clouds which burst over and over,
each drop of rain carrying it's own unique story.

Sometimes I wonder what it means
To be woven with the same rhythms as the rhythms of this Earth.

And sometimes I wonder about
My own life and the changing tides,
how we give pieces of ourselves away,
like how mothers give themselves to their children
And trust like the ocean.
May 2019 · 157
Heart of Silence
Heather Moon May 2019
I'll meet you here
In the heart of silence,
When Dusk has drunk his last sip of day
And nights slips in like a silken whisper,
A single flame to light the way.
When the frantic running catches up,
may you succumb.
When all is left
are desperate prayers
Sent to brazen skies,
may you listen.
I'll meet you here,
In the heart of silence.
We hold these bodies,
Unsure of what is us
Or what is the universe around us,
Dancing stardust.
And what do the ocean waves take
and what do they leave?
What is ours to hold
or to grieve?
To let go of,
or to retrieve?
Surrendered unto the
Wisdom of this Earth.
I'll meet you here
in the heart of silence,
The place where life
rests her wary bones,
And truth reveals her gentle song,
Where wisdom and knowing slowly
wrap themselves around you to stay,
their pulse flows soft and strong,
And all else falls away.
May 2019 · 131
A Letter to My Inner Child
Heather Moon May 2019
A letter to my inner child:
I speak
to your heart, to the longing within you,
to the Earth that rings through you.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Dearest child,
With eyes wide and innocent,
With palms held open unto this world,
Please trust
in this love.
You will find many distractions
in this lifetime.
You will find
Many pretty faces with false pretenses,
Tainted colors flashing,
Promises with no roots,
Fake smiles and sweaty palms
which
All lead you into blindness.
You will find
Tangled arms reaching for you,
Pulling you into the swarm,
Tugging from wars within,
begging you
to join the confusion.
You will find
A shell of a world
with
Loud noises, greedy oil,
and zipping cars
Disguised as redemption.
Do not lose your way,
This labyrthm may swim around you
but your heart is the mountain,
Steadfast and strong.
The moon is your guardian,
May she guide you.
Your soul is the lion,
May she Roar.
Do not fall in love dear one,
Rise.
Do not lose your way dear child,
Trust.
There is beauty
In listening,
There is beauty
in honour,
There is truth
in the silent path.
You will find racing speeds and excitement, enjoy these fleeting moments
As warm gifts of
impermanence,
But do not disregard
the wisdom
that beats and blossoms
from your heart.
For the voice that
walks with you,
that wakes with you,
will lead you
To exactly
where you are meant to be,
So listen.
It will lead you back home
To the glowing alter
of your
own sacred light.
It will lead you back home,
To the vast mighty
Mountain
you are
and
were born to be.
Mar 2019 · 131
Return
Heather Moon Mar 2019
Allow the heaviness to sink in around you.
Allow the dust in the room to settle, fall calmly to the Earth.
Let go of the thousands of words unspoken.
Allow yourself to surrender.
Feel this sinking upon your shoulders,
this lifetime of burden is your own voice singing out.
You are the lotus amidst murky waters.
This weight is yourself calling to yourself.
Allow the throbbing of your heart to receive your prayers.
Allow yourself to come home to this body,
longing to receive you.
Patiently waiting.
Place your palm upon your chest.
Allow this intimacy to run from you
back to you.
To return these chords of familiarity to where they belong.
Allow the dust to settle.
And remember to Be proud
of the river that flows
through you
and your beating heart.
Feb 2019 · 167
Boundaries
Heather Moon Feb 2019
I know better
yet I fall too easily.
Something about the way you reminded me of someone I once knew
in a story written long before.
The time before I grew into this skin,
the time when I was seeking myself in novels with big words which I didn't understand.
How did I trust you
to hold my heart
when I saw how you held yours.
Feb 2019 · 254
Fire
Heather Moon Feb 2019
Love is Fire
entrancing, Freeeeeee, WILD, Courageous
The dance of Passion blazing upwards
into the night
the
Smoldering Eyes
Magnificently Beam Bright

Love is Fire
but not just the flame,
Love is the wood,
to which makes the fire glow,
the burning pillars are
devoted walls to this holy temple
steadfast and strong
makes love so

Love is Fire,
but not just the burning,
Love is the glow of the embers.
When time has faded like a setting sun and
wrinkles mark themselves boldly upon this face,
what is left of us but the comforting glow of embers,
deep within our hearts?

Love is Fire,
but not just the flame,
not just the fuel which feeds the fire,
not just the embers glowing,
Love is the ashes.
Ashes immemorial, ashes which speak to the very same stardust of which our bones are comprised.
Love is Fire,
but not just the flame, nor the fuel, nor the remnant coals, nor is it the ashes,
Love is the dust.
The dust from which the ashes transform into.
This dust scatters freely to the wind,
ageless yet imbued with memories.
This ancient dust carries song of the heart in the wind,
Love is Fire, but not just the flame.
Sep 2017 · 317
The Dance of Greif
Heather Moon Sep 2017
We dove into the wide deep Ocean,
And our bodies we smothered with blue,
For its what we were told
we had to do.

So we bathed in an endless bathtub of pigmented royal blue,
For its what we were told we had to do.
What we had to do.

We stood like mighty mountains of granite and stone,
We bowed in acceptance,
letting Blue Sink in further,
Further she gripped to our bone.

We listened as this indigo mystery whispered tales told in ancient tongues,
And we breathed her in like the crisp night sky as she slowly filled the hollowness of our lungs.

Diligently we dressed in her black velvet,
Worn smoothly upon our skin.
She brought us the love we longed for,
And So we let her in.

She wrapped all around us,
Gently rocking from side to side.
She showed us the big white moon,
And how to use the darkest forest as our guide.

And we fell ever more into her waters
And we fell ever more unto her song.
The Salty Ocean pulled us into her waves, and oh how we rode along.

Blue danced from our souls,
She danced from our fingertips,
She howled in growls,
And kissed the echoing prayers
Dripping from our lips.

Blue left us in madness clawing at whitened walls,
seeking her truth beyond the rises and far beyond the falls.

We crashed and we cried
How tightly she had tied,
Her laced clutches pried,
To escape; we tried,
But the Ocean goddess follows her own flow
And it is up to us to grow.

Please, says the cries,
Reveal hope in our eyes,
Rain blessings from the skies,
Lift us from the lies.

So staggering footstep by footstep
We learned how to walk on water,
And we churned with the deepest secret dance of the Earth and
Oceans daughter.

~~~~~\~~~~~}}}}}}}}}~~~~☆~~~~\\~~

Tides may change and years, they pass,
yet the silver shadows may still glimmer within the glass.

And I wear this cloaks chill
of blue still,
maybe I always will,
For it is one which I'll never know how to untie.

Though blue taught me not
to untie;
She taught me how
even on Winters frozen winds
we may catch with capes the icy breeze and set out to fly!~
Jul 2017 · 372
Stop
Heather Moon Jul 2017
This is not a time to celebrate,
although do reverberate
in the goodness of mother all around.
But this is not a time to celebrate for nothing,
so lost child find your feet upon the ground.

This is not a time for drop in and drop out
or a “yes please maam” to that sugar coat
worn upon the folds of this bittersweet reality.

This is not a time to deny the divinity
or to choose not to see
where our prayers and actions are called and needing.

This is...
a time
to listen to the ones who are bleeding,
who are pleading,
Their prayers out into the open,
like water from a vessel which has broken.

This is the time
to listen to the windy songs of spirit,
and the voices bare-***** howling,
and the belly's growling.

This is a time to know.

To know how to grow!

No more justifications or hesitancy
when the truth is blatantly
crying for us to hear!

This is not a time to laugh at or mock the greater flock!

This is a time to stand in unity,
to stand in solidarity.

This is a time to follow the pulse of our beating heart...

….....Stop to listen.......

This is a time to feel the earth
just like how she feels us.

This is a time to honor and respect.
This is a time to accept
the salt of our tears
and the strength in our rage.

This is the time,
So may we kneel with our knees upon her forest floor,

And in silence may we pray,
may we say
a final goodbye to this rotting cage.~~~~
Wrote this on public transit the other day.. sometimes being so woven into society gives me inspiration for writing.. unedited journal style classic...
Heather Moon Oct 2016
I choose to go alone this time.

I choose to grind the rind,
off of my bones.

I choose to go deep this time.

I choose to sing and cry
the best words I have ever spoken,
to go broken
into this forest womb.

I choose to let the alcove of soul secrets
rip themselves from my gloom,
and be free to the wind.

I choose to shatter
the box of illusion
and listen
through echoes of time
to the deep dark woods.

I choose to fall
until I hear
the comforting call
of wolves wailing
wisdom to the moon.

I choose to listen
to the ancient sound,
reverberating harmoniously,
through the ground.

I choose to walk alone this time...
naked toe's
One trusting
step at a time.

I choose to go alone this time
so I can really listen
to where spirit
meets flesh,
where air meets breath,

and then I shall find
my true path home.
Oct 2016 · 329
Coffee Hop
Heather Moon Oct 2016
Couldn't think straight on my lunch break had to filtrate some wordhop.. Spiritual lessons in a coffee shop...

I want the world to wake up and yet I respond hastily to a customer,
hiding in make up,
& in a scrambled shake up..
my souls ventialtion,
a void of frustration
spews out in a compilation
Of "medium or dark roast?"
"Yo!"
I tell myself,
"Stand back, humble, make a toast to the path of the most, don't be a ghost that boasts"
So I choose to send her
blessings on her way,
avoid the sway
into mass fear,
help her
and I
to know why
we're here,

Fear dissapear

I will not respond in anger, hate or disgust
to triple frappucino-three-papercups-for-one drink society
No
I will rise through this cosmic dust
To elucidate my hearts trust
That this 9-5 rust
Will fade in a gust!

I will pray
For a world where we can be the preachers of the practice
Express our full bliss
Where we wont
Fade into the abyss...

I'm Not going to Miss
My life
Standing back
Watching behind glass,
Stooped away in fright

NO!

I'm going to feel my might
Like the night
Sky
Let it Cry
Throughout cackly veins
Wipe away
electric shasms
of pain
I will send her  
Love
On her way..

Sorry I got caught in a sway

I ask again,
Feelin that zen,
A true smile then,
"Would you like medium or dark roast?
Because
I give a toast
to the path
with the most"
My blessings to you to find ways
To live most true
And Now...
to start a new
*** of brew..
Oh universe :)
¡¡Thank You!!
Sep 2016 · 325
Pleasure
Heather Moon Sep 2016
I want to wither in delight,
to moan and wriggle.
to fully emerge myself into this energy
to lose control to passion
to let that steamy,
pink,
red,
orange ,
delight fill me beyond my limit
To be like a fig, wet and surrendered.

Lets create a hot juicy mess,
lets feel our static skin connecting
like electric currents
Passionate heavy gasps
open mouths
beyond amazement
in a galaxy of awe that this much pleasure can exist
Tingles of teasing light caresses
anticipation tipping us to the tip
to the tip

              ......tip..
..................................­.....tip................

                  .....................­.................................................................­..................tip

And then boom

our bodies release
they shake
they cry
they scream

they release

All is black
We are in the galaxy...

and then we awaken again

Awaken as pure soft divine light :)
Heather Moon Sep 2016
The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock

         S’io credesse che mia risposta fosse
A persona che mai tornasse al mondo,
Questa fiamma staria senza piu scosse.
Ma perciocche giammai di questo fondo
Non torno vivo alcun, s’i’odo il vero,
Senza tema d’infamia ti rispondo.

LET us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient etherized upon a table;
Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,
The muttering retreats         5
Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels
And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:
Streets that follow like a tedious argument
Of insidious intent
To lead you to an overwhelming question….         10
Oh, do not ask, “What is it?”
Let us go and make our visit.

In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.

The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes,         15
The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes
Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening,
Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains,
Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys,
Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap,         20
And seeing that it was a soft October night,
Curled once about the house, and fell asleep.

And indeed there will be time
For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,
Rubbing its back upon the window panes;         25
There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
There will be time to ****** and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate;         30
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.

In the room the women come and go         35
Talking of Michelangelo.

And indeed there will be time
To wonder, “Do I dare?” and, “Do I dare?”
Time to turn back and descend the stair,
With a bald spot in the middle of my hair—         40
(They will say: “How his hair is growing thin!”)
My morning coat, my collar mounting firmly to the chin,
My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin—
(They will say: “But how his arms and legs are thin!”)
Do I dare         45
Disturb the universe?
In a minute there is time
For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.

For I have known them all already, known them all:
Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,         50
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;
I know the voices dying with a dying fall
Beneath the music from a farther room.
  So how should I presume?

And I have known the eyes already, known them all—         55
The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase,
And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin,
When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall,
Then how should I begin
To spit out all the ****-ends of my days and ways?         60
  And how should I presume?

And I have known the arms already, known them all—
Arms that are braceleted and white and bare
(But in the lamplight, downed with light brown hair!)
Is it perfume from a dress         65
That makes me so digress?
Arms that lie along a table, or wrap about a shawl.
  And should I then presume?
  And how should I begin?
.      .      .      .      .      .      .      .

Shall I say, I have gone at dusk through narrow streets         70
And watched the smoke that rises from the pipes
Of lonely men in shirt-sleeves, leaning out of windows?…

I should have been a pair of ragged claws
Scuttling across the floors of silent seas.
.      .      .      .      .      .      .      .

And the afternoon, the evening, sleeps so peacefully!         75
Smoothed by long fingers,
Asleep … tired … or it malingers,
Stretched on the floor, here beside you and me.
Should I, after tea and cakes and ices,
Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis?         80
But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed,
Though I have seen my head (grown slightly bald) brought in upon a platter,
I am no prophet—and here’s no great matter;
I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker,
And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker,         85
And in short, I was afraid.

And would it have been worth it, after all,
After the cups, the marmalade, the tea,
Among the porcelain, among some talk of you and me,
Would it have been worth while,         90
To have bitten off the matter with a smile,
To have squeezed the universe into a ball
To roll it toward some overwhelming question,
To say: “I am Lazarus, come from the dead,
Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all”—         95
If one, settling a pillow by her head,
  Should say: “That is not what I meant at all;
  That is not it, at all.”

And would it have been worth it, after all,
Would it have been worth while,         100
After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets,
After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the floor—
And this, and so much more?—
It is impossible to say just what I mean!
But as if a magic lantern threw the nerves in patterns on a screen:         105
Would it have been worth while
If one, settling a pillow or throwing off a shawl,
And turning toward the window, should say:
  “That is not it at all,
  That is not what I meant, at all.”
.      .      .      .      .      .      .      .
        110
No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be;
Am an attendant lord, one that will do
To swell a progress, start a scene or two,
Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool,
Deferential, glad to be of use,         115
Politic, cautious, and meticulous;
Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;
At times, indeed, almost ridiculous—
Almost, at times, the Fool.

I grow old … I grow old …         120
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.

Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.

I do not think that they will sing to me.         125

I have seen them riding seaward on the waves
Combing the white hair of the waves blown back
When the wind blows the water white and black.

We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown         130
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.
Jun 2016 · 352
Silent Waters
Heather Moon Jun 2016
Here I am,
reading my horoscopes again,
as if some persons perspective on what
the night sky reveals would also glimmer a foreseeable forecast on my own future.

Here I am chasing answers again.

I am like an Owl in the jungle.
Mice are vagabonds, fitting in anywhere,
dispersing where the wind whispers and warm nooks ******,
but owls, owls are more silent, nocturnal creatures,
Grounded, mysterious and peaceful predators, only seemingly at home in certain landscapes.

I am not scared of wisdom,
like the kind that gleams bright in those eyes,
or the wisdom of Father Winter, as he blows a cheek full of air from the north.
I am scared of fire.
Fire like the flames of a panther, although secretly I long for that burn.
Love is hate and hate is love.
Burn Burn Burn.
Burning every love letter and lace slip
So I may equip
myself with myself
and not possessions of faded passions.

I am dancing alone in twilight, creating hot breaths and echoes, the sounds of feet pattering over the dew laden grass of this lonesome forest, I am dancing wildly so I may feel my own heart beat, so I may know that I am still alive.

Why am I reading my horoscope for answers when only I can give myself the peace to all those silent prayers?

I am not an Owl, nor a Panther,
I am like both,
I am a moon Halk,
who glides gracefully,
who flies fiercely.
Soaking in
ever-ascending valleys
and ridges.
Riding life,
with pulsating wings,
an in-borne beating rhythm.

Crisp night fall..
the Halk swoops low,
to fly high,
leaving a reflection in  the ice
as she summits.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>}}}}}--------------------------------------->>>>
Apr 2016 · 6.5k
Let Me Love You in Silence
Heather Moon Apr 2016
Let me love you in Silence,

I want to watch you,
observe all your pores
and spots where fine wrinkles have settled.

I want to see you
dance daintily like a flower
or grunt and hoof your way through space
like a grubby animal.
Either exalted or  halted,
I want to hold you,
to cup your soft surrendered hands just like a clam shell,
and to cocoon
your weary beating body.

Let me love you in silence,
from afar
like a deer
hiding in the forest,
peeking out at the mysteries of the world.

I want to love you deeply
like the ocean loves the land
as she kisses its gentle shores
and runs away all too soon,
called by the moon.

I  lay on the dusted hardwood of our home,
your washing the dishes and the fragrant smell of soap fills the air,
I lay underneath the door frame
tracing my eyes up and down your sweet body, your strong back hunched over.  Hard working arms cleaning,
oh the little love secrets I keep to myself.

I want to run through meadows picking the most vibrant wildflowers
so I may lay them at your feet,
gently
quietly.

This yearning in my soul
words do not know this love,
these intangible feelings exuding.

I want to bathe you
in a claw foot tub
and in the silence
watch your eyes grow wide,
I want to see the wonderment
of a whole galaxy of stars glimmering inside you
before noise ushers such things away
before noise pulls me from this fantasy.
This dream that we are living,
it exists,
I know it does.

You can live it too, please please,
just close your eyes
and let love linger for a moment
feel loves sweet breathe
as she breathes in silence,
as she breathes
inside of you
and inside of me.
Heather Moon Mar 2016
Holy Larkspur and Loons
Goddesses of Jupiter Moons
Ancient Sunshine dancing
With curvy golden swirls of fire,
Remember that sunshine figurine so clear
As though dangling from a crib,
And you a soft sweet child
Reaching up for it?

I know you know
That of which I speak,
It’s part of the dream,
The dream we share,
The same dreams which are woven
into the souls
Of mankind.
A Cupid’s Cathedral awaits,
As Castaways journey to the shores of distant lands
Some left wrecked by the Sea
The great and open mystery
And all the unpronounced twinkling's in time
That we taste and try to place,
Metaphors of grand complexion cannot place
The distant speck
But I know you know
That these stories are crafted so delicately
Hand sewn with needle and thread
Into the patchwork makeup of our souls.
Perhaps too much wine and passion to place into the boxes of words
Feb 2016 · 291
Rambles on receipt paper...
Heather Moon Feb 2016
I wish to do Pirouettes
in my bedroom
Listening loudly to Enya

I want to tumble straight forward
To the floor

To release my body to all the empty spaces before me
Just waiting to be filled
With rythmic movement
Tap-tipping motion

To trust the air,
The wisps and whispers
To guide me
To where I need to go.

I want to dance
My heart out,
Alone at midnight,
Just me, the moon,
a whole galaxy of stars
And a distant cities skyline

I want to revel in the gushing awe sensations
Like a child building mud castles
With ***** hands

Faster, foot steps, twirling round and round,
Leaping, tumbling, diving, zig-zagging,
Letting the pulse of the music, the pulse of my lungs take me away,

To dance
And dance,
Until I too,
am a whisper
Until I too,
Am the wind.

I want to breathe
In this cool night air
All that I can
To be completely still,
To be simply mystified
By this beautiful magic
Of life in all its entirety...~~
Nov 2015 · 427
God
Heather Moon Nov 2015
God
Ripple me like water
Pinpoint my centre
And
Send sonic pulses
Expanding outwards.

Blooming in an ivory sea.

I'm bound for a train
of absolute
******* glory,
I began packing my suitcases
long ago.

I know I've been stuck
In vortexes of stagnency
But please know
(You know)
I feel your sweet call
And slowly I give in
from resistence.

Like an unfolding flower,
With gentle poetic petals,
I open.

Painful scars reveal nothing
But purity,
If one dares to let them.

I promise to dive deep
To let every inch of you ecstatically bubble
Through my ******
Trinkling veins.

For you,
I promise to go light
to let you
Dance around me Wildly
In a Symphony
of ****** colours
Shape shifting shadows.

I,
a thin mirror,
Reflecting
All your
perfections and imperfections.

I promise to crack
This glass,
To shatter
Into a million formless pieces,
I promise to crack
Over and over,
Revealing yet another
Reflection.

I'll show the world truth
Free of illusion.

Ugly and Beautiful
Are the same.

I promise to not be seperate.
To not let myself
Feel that lonesome road again,
Unless like a wolf,
I'll take it with a good
Humbled stride.

I promise to surrender
To surrender
To the rapid spawns of inkling spores
Growing
From the beating pulse
Of my raging lungs.

..I promise to surrender..

Mother,
of vast roaring seas
And
Great grand forests,
Fertile Canopies
Of Amazing,
I promise.

I promise
I'll let you
Enter me
The moment
I feel your icy hands
Reach their wrath
Around the windowless
Perfect
Imperfection
I am.

The moment
I feel you tap
The very centre
Of my soul
I'll let you in.

Rip me open,
Splay me across your most barren chest,
Roll me in the feircest grit
Of your grain

I will rise like smoke.
I will Arise.

I Have Risen.

And
May you take my words,
Like a silent rainfall,
Kissing Soft Gentle Earth.

~Thank You~

I promise,
I Will
Dive Deep
Into your Darkest Blue.

Mother,

I promise
To surrender.

To fully
Surrender
This time


.
Sep 2015 · 446
Dandy Lion
Heather Moon Sep 2015
Fear is like a ****... It always finds its way back. However, dandelion is considered a **** although it has many medicinal properties, fear is of the same nature. Im not saying hold onto fear but rather learn from it and what it has come to teach. Reach to the root of it and then pluck it out to prevent it from returning as often. Many blessings to all
Sep 2015 · 359
do YOU dare?
Heather Moon Sep 2015
When was the last time you let the grass tickle your toes or let the fragrance of a rose twirl softly up your nose?
When was the last time you stopped the "I know's" and truly surrendered to the mystery that grows, 
lusciously flows 
and goes 
trinkling back to home?
Do you dare to release your
hair to the bare 
winds that breeze on by? 
Do you dare, with quivered lips, 
scream out to that aching sky?
Do you dare to fill your heart to the brim with love so good it shakes,
as you unfold your lips 
and unfetter to the deepest most secret quips 
of being, 
left hidden in moments before the 
earth quakes?

Do you dare to care 
So much
So so so much
That all you can do is surrender?

Do you dare to point 
your fingers to that sky
and whisper just 
why why why
You do care
As the moon listens and
galaxies watch on 
by by by.

In the bluest truest stare
You whisper
I do dare
I do care
I do do Do
Dare
To touch the Sky to the Earth
The Earth to Sky
To rebirth
And shed
To awake the sleeping dead
To be a soul fulfiller
To be a long standing pillar
To be genuine, wise, and humbled in my knowing
To let myself be, breathe, feel, feed
The grass that is growing
To be blossomed like the fig that simply shares
Or the trumpet that expands outwards with its blares~~
I release from affairs of empty cares
I stand before the sky
Naked in my silence
I stand before the wind
And whisper....
Do you hear me mother?
Soft whispers of I do
I do I do I do
Its true...
....I do dare...
Aug 2015 · 744
krishnamurti quote!~~
Heather Moon Aug 2015
Who is the person that you call an artist? A man who is momentarily creative? To me he is not an artist. The man who merely at rare moments has this creative impulse and expresses that creativeness through perfection of technique, surely you would not call him an artist. To me, the true artist is one who lives completely, harmoniously, who does not divide his art from living, whose very life is that expression, whether it be a picture, music, or his behaviour; who has not divorced his expression on a canvas or in music or in stone from his daily conduct, daily living. That demands the highest intelligence, highest harmony. To me the true artist is the man who has that harmony. He may express it on canvas, or he may talk, or he may paint; or he may not express it at all, he may feel it. But all this demands that exquisite poise, that intensity of awareness, and therefore his expression is not divorced from the daily continuity of living.
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