The Moon

 

One day I stood on tiptoe in order to kiss the moon, she would have none of it. So I went down on one knee in homage, hoping for her love, again she ignored me. So I laid face down praying for her to forgive me, she shone silently upon my back with distain. So I turned to face upwards to more admire her beauty, calling for her to come down from her great height to love me. She refused to answer. I shuffled off, coated in the indignity of my ego’s masculinity – irritated by her coldness.

Then one early morn I stopped to admire a water droplet in the trumpet of a morning glory flower. She — The Moon — was in there hiding from the sun. I took the flower and ate it. So now the moon had to marry me, but it was never a shotgun wedding for I realized we are all the moon and she is us.

© Stuart Wilde
www.stuartwilde.com


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About the Author:

Stuart Wilde (1946 – 2013) is considered by many to be the greatest metaphysical teacher that has ever lived. Most famous New Age, New Thought writers and teachers privately studied with him, or they have been greatly influenced by his work. Read the full Stuart Wilde Bio >