"And he said unto me: This is Shinehah, which is the sun. And he said unto me: Kokob which is star. And he said unto me: Olea, which is the moon. And he said unto me: Kokaubeam, which signifies stars, or all the great lights, which are in the firmament of heaven. "
-Abraham 13-
This was the naming of the sun, and the stars, and of course, a piece of my heart, Olea, the moon. I think of this story every full moon, and I am ever grateful for her.
Up in the sky, among the granules of the universe, she sits, quiet and powerful. She pulls at the tides like the blankets of her child. She lights the skies, different areas of her Earth in equal turns. Moon beams cast spells on those who dance in them, and no matter what, even when you think she's gone, she's still there, listening, whenever you need her.
I walked in her light tonight, and stopped for a few seconds to bask in the untouchable beauty, remembering a moment that still wells tears in my eyes. I didn't know just how much I loved the moon until my daughter turned to me one day, under a full moon, and said, as a matter of fact, nodding towards the moon, "she sure is a beautiful girl, isn't she, momma?" "yes, baby girl," I choked out, "she sure is".
And as I take some time tonight, in the over emotional state that welcomes a full moon, I think my precious Olea sounds much like someone I miss terribly.
Tonight, and every night, I am grateful for the moon.
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