What if I were to wish upon a blood moon

~ Live & Learn

The blood moon eclipse, the longest this century, as seen from the eastern Turkish city of Tunceli on Friday. (Bulent Kilic, Agence France-Presse, wsj.com, July 28, 2018).  Post title from: dominic riccitello

 

12 thoughts on “What if I were to wish upon a blood moon”

  5. Friday night late back from work I drove way out of my way east to the lake, by the Chicago Baha’i Temple, then south home, only to see it.
    It was so beautiful I forgot to make a wish.
    Mary Oliver said to make sure to never miss a full moon.

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    1. Must have been something to see it over Lake Michigan. And maybe you can make the wish tonight?

      I had to go find Mary Oliver’s full moon poem:

      HARVEST MOON:

      No sky could hold
      so much light–
      and here comes the brimming,
      the flooding and streaming
      out of the clouds
      and into the leaves,
      glazing the creeks,
      the smallest ditches!
      And so many stars!
      The sky seems stretched
      like an old black cloth;
      behind it, all
      the celestial fire
      we ever dreamed of!
      And the moon steps lower,
      quietly changing
      her luminous masks, brushing
      everything as she passes
      with her slow hands
      and soft lips–
      clusters of dark grapes,
      apples swinging like lost planets,
      melons cool and heavy as bodies–
      and the mockingbird wakes
      in his hidden castle;
      out of the silver tangle
      of thorns and leaves
      he flutters and tumbles,
      spilling long
      ribbons of music
      over forest and river,
      copse and cloud–
      all heaven and all earth–
      wherever the white moon
      fancies her small wild prince–
      field after field after field.
      ——————-
      Which led me to trip into this one:

      MINDFUL
      by Mary Oliver

      Every Day
      I see or hear
      something
      that more or less

      kills me
      with delight,
      that leaves me
      like a needle

      in the haystack
      of light.
      It is what I was born for—
      to look, to listen,

      to lose myself
      inside this soft world—
      to instruct myself
      over and over

      in joy,
      and acclamation.
      Nor am I talking
      about the exceptional,

      the fearful, the dreadful,
      the very extravagant—
      but of the ordinary,
      the common, the very drab

      the daily presentations.
      Oh, good scholar,
      I say to myself,
      how can you help

      but grow wise
      with such teachings
      as these—
      the untrimmable light

      of the world,
      the ocean’s shine,
      the prayers that are made
      out of grass?

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      1. Because you’re distracted by your fitbits at all times!

        Also, here are the Mary Oliver few lines,

        When it’s over, it’s over, and we don’t know
        any of us, what happens then.
        So I try not to miss anything.
        I think, in my whole life, I have never missed
        The full moon
        or the slipper of its coming back.
        Or, a kiss.
        Well, yes, especially a kiss.

        Mary Oliver, Swan.

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