New Moon Kiln
In month number nine, on day 9:
Clumps of clay
We’re all merely matter
and the ethers
above, shadow us with love.
A faint crescent moon crumbling
out of the cornea of our eyes
sleepers in the collective EYE;
we’re wiping stardust away.
Debris from a once brighter sky
falls into a new day.
Into the new, phases of our life fluctuate.
Planting intrinsic seeds, our souls reap what they sow.
Together, as we garden and water each other with compassion.
Luminous souls grow and grow.
Tapas building, we’re firing up a new moon kiln.
Cultivating a new earth human horticulture,
a culture manifesting into an annular harvest moon.
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