Moon Temple

Last night I visited a moon temple,
great slabs of stone in fallen ruins
all bathed in silver light.
The moon was bigger than i’d ever seen her,
hanging in the sky.
(Only it was not the sky but some other place.)
I could hear the moon song – it is a certain tone
and the body responds as though magnetised.

I sat on a fallen slab,
smooth, hard. strangely, not cold
and the voice with silence conveyed:
“Welcome to sit here!
This is the moon temple,
beings come here to absorb her light.
When she is full
there is healing wisdom to exchange,
let it wash over you.”
It was a wordless gathering.
A communion of sorts

I asked if it were a real place,
“Perhaps not in your world
but it exists in the collective consciousness.
The energies of archetypal images are very real,
look around you!”

There were all kinds of creatures,
moving amongst the silvery shapes.
Some i could not recognise,
But there by my foot,
a small, brown mouse.
It was watching me
and the voice said:
“This is your courage
it represents courage with humility.”
I thought,
“it’s rather small!”
and felt amused.

Then a huge wild cat,
a leopard or cougar perhaps.
She was sleek and white,
muscles rippling,
larger than I.
As she rubbed against me,
shivers up and down my spine,
back arched throat stretched,
a tear falling, tricking;
an electric tingle,
her deep purr
and the voice said:
“This is your power,
it represents power with grace.”

And all the while,
the silver light,
cleansing, infusing, recharging
and the moon sound,
like the tone of tuning fork;
some high vibration
spilling across the ancient ruins
where spirit beings wander.

I could feel my womb resonating,
warmth slipping, drawing,
and some kind of relief
in recognising that this wild feeling
is cellular, not just of my mind.

Then I slept.

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