goodnight, moon


She waxes and wanes, never stagnant, never expectant. Much like


her only constant is change – the guiding light of the universe when blanketed in steeping darkness. Once a month she encourages us to create our own inner light, as she watches from within the night only to return the following evening to remind us she will always be there.

We women are made of her dust, every one of our cells linked up to her energy – her universe shifting energy. The energy that can rise the ocean, that will make a seedling grow, and that makes us shed and bleed. Her cycle is our cycle – never ending, always expanding, always glowing. She travels the sky every evening, gliding across the dark slipperiness, the true mistress of grace.

Our tears her gifts – each glittering droplet dripping from the moonstone we carry within our souls.


{Submit your own story at: Kuntsrule Submission.}


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