Return of the Night Owl

At night when the moon is becoming full and my body has been waning

I lay awake unable to sleep eyes wide watching tick tocks

I transform into an owl

Hooting quietly so I don’t wake my beloved or my child

A Luna-cy taking over me but I’m not crazy

Just a woman cycling and during this phase the veil is thin

I hear intelligent infinity calling me

Whispering to me by the light of the moon

Beckoning me to see insights hidden in plain sight

A chance to course correct my life

Like contrast in a photo meant to point my eyes to the things I desire to see

with clarity when I am willing.

There are times when I’m not willing to see and those nights the clouds tend to cover the moon darkly.

Like eyes closed, clenched tight

I can’t seem to find that bliss ignorance is supposed to bring because I know better.

Life is never really stagnant and neither is the body.

So which way am I choosing to move when I pretend to stay still?

Toward creation or destruction?

Pretending that my cycles aren’t just that.. cycles.

I won’t always have this season.

So embrace the change.

Learn to ride the flow instead of fight

Fighting will only make you weak and tired

Like swimming against the current

And I get it the current narrative is to strive for stoic

But in the end it just makes you more sick

More split

Further from my essence

And from the power I am meant to inhabit

And I’m tired of it

Aren’t you?

I spent years doubled over in pain because that’s the only communication my body got me to respond to.

Even then my mind would urge me to keep going yet

Can a rose ever truly get away from its rose-ness?

When crushed does it not release a rose scent?

So why do we women strive for a standard

Not meant for us?

You can’t ever understand the way of a rose if you’re comparing it to the way of a beet?

Or any other vegetation for that matter.

There is beauty and power in our cycles

When we are willing to see.

When I am willing to see, those nights don’t bother me

Those are the nights when I commune with my moon. Her light beams beckoning me.

Showing me the way

When my sight is turned inward and I see all of me

Even the messy things I’d rather not see

In stark contrast to where I want to be

Thoughts that are messy can finally come clean

I’m pointed in a different direction everytime.

Everything is feedback, looping time and time again until I learn my lesson.

That’s how I know the night owl will return.

It has different faces in each phase

Facets of myself I thought I knew until

The night owl lays them at my feet

They are meant to nourish me

To be devoured.

My senses feasting on every aspect

It’s a delight when I’m aligned with me.

My mind isn’t my master so I do things that might not make sense

Like light specific incense

Hold a certain stone

Meditation helps me keep my mind off the throne

Then as the moon wanes and my body starts to wax

That’s when the night owl starts to nap

Still alert to what is going on

And realizing that it’s season is gone…

Still cycling though less obviously

My pauciloquent speech now blossoming

Becoming lush and loquacious.

My whole world reflects the power of my tongue.

It is up to me to create or destroy

I choose to create a better relationship with me

And accept my cyclical and mercurial nature

As a woman.