Hunger Moon

Tonight the Hunger Moon rises
frozen white, trimmed with copper,
shining with her longing.
She is drawing the darkness
of her love like an eclipse tonight,
covering her face in that shadow.

Beautiful pearl,
you are crumbling into your own hands,
language lost in the many tongues
spoken in this blackness,
this Tower of Babel,
layer after layer of woman
lost inside herself,
inside the sands
sifting through a stone heart,
warring with itself as time continues
to run out, day after day,
night after night the lone orb,
the last sweet drips of wine
in the bottom of a glorious goblet
once full to brimming with the first sap
of the tree of forgiveness.

Full moon,
Goddess moon,
be the silver coin I will pluck
from the sky
and warm in the palm of my hand
waiting for the sound of travel.
I beg you to find me worthy
of your generosity
that will buy my passage across these firey waters,
to the cold burial grounds of this winter.
My skin is turning the color
of the red earth
and here I will dance on the graves
of my past lives
cutting the ties with all ego—
drink until I’m drunk with the necessary meaning
of all life—
In this feast
I honor your fullness,
pregnant with knowledge,
and lift up my cup
on this night of all possibilities.
My hands are ready
to catch this child
of hope.