The full moon Winter Solstice woke me sharply from a deep slumber at 4 AM this morning. Mesmerized by its magnificence, I grabbed my camera. Clickety-click, clickety-click! Enlarging it, it’s timely secret exposed. Look closely and you will see the rare occlusion of Mars (the tiny tiny white dot below the moon). Also look closely off to the right of the moon for the vertical contrail which at the very moment I awoke, to look, was exactly dissecting the moon. Why am I awakened by every solstice? Its flaming brightness seems to cross my bed head religiously, religiously reminding me of its secret nighttime celebration of blinding light? Why? Why am I so fascinated by the moon. What subtle influence does it have on us humans?
Solstice Moon? Poetic License. I prefer my December full moon to the 21st, simply because too many calendars collide (Gregorian, Aztec, Julian) and my Solstice Moon is always there. She’s my rock! She’s full of herself, not hiding in the dark! And she won’t be around on the 21th😉
Returning to bed after coppicing another silent solstice, I dreamt I was tessering among the stars, millions and jillions of tiny dots surrounding me in my endless sky.
Author’s Note: Cosmic Delight! What the Winter Solstice Moon means to me? It’s the last moon of the year. Winter? The last season. The season when life goes dormant. Symbolically yours and my Winter are our last season, our last days. Life to Dark. Morbid? Oh heck no! It’s the subject of poets; that and love, nature and intrigue and life and life after life❤️
tom tenbrunsel
Poet Laureate of the Moon