I wrote this poem the day before the full moon.

I forgot about the moon.

I was busy. I was distracted by political upheavel.
I was concerned with how my life was going
how my healing was going
I was judgemental of my garden chaos.
I was critical of my lack of desire to weed out the grass.
I was worried about how much water the garden was getting.
I was anxious about how my breast tissue could heal.
I was sorry that I have a challenge with my hip.
I was concerned about the future of our country.
I was afraid that the freedom we so cherish in the US would be gone.
I was terrified of women losing more and more rights.
I was losing sleep about money and making sure I am accountable.
I was wondering if we would ever have peace in our world.

And I forgot about the moon.
What phase is the moon in, I asked myself today?
I looked it up-full tomorrow.

I breathe in and think about the moon.
I breathe out and remember the moon.

A few nights after I wrote this poem, I had a dream that I was on the moon. I was an astronaut and had traveled to the moon with others. We were getting ready to return to earth.
One of my fellow astronauts scooped up some moon dirt in a swimming flipper as we walked along toward our spaceship. The spaceship was quite delapidated and so I wondered how that would take us back to earth.
There weas a rise in the earth near where I was standing. I wanted to go and look over the edge. I was terrified. And I did look over. I saw beautiful mountains in the the far distance.
And then I spun in a circle and look at the the moon in its silver gray beauty. And suddenly a flock of large white bird flew over head.
In this dream I felt terrified and awe struck at the same time.

May it be in Beauty.