It was a strange moon. I didn’t know what to do.
I could see all kinds of things in it,
angels and demons and butterflies and dragons.
I could see all kinds of things.

Inside my head was full of snakes and nightmares.
That strange moon will do that,
and no one else sees where I go, or what I see,
and the strange moon just laughs.

Evil, crazy moon sailing across the ripped up sky,
half full and everything increasing,
Monster angry waves and wind, and sick soul –
fire of water and water of air.

Wicked moon, you fly like a pale demon, like a cry
across this troubled and unyielding sky.
The Goddess is angry – souls are full of angry words,
and the wind and the waves are angry.

Strange moon, the world burns and moans below you.
What should be my prayer?
Who should I invoke to calm the tempest? Tell me,
and I’ll do it, anything to stop this storm.




8/26/2020