The Buck Moon

The Buck Moon burns hot white

Night losing the ability to cloak darkness

Finding with pure light

The Buck Moon shines so bright

Its purpose

A looking glass 

A seer

Truth seeker

X-ray laser beam 

The Buck Moon arrives 

Teaching reflective light

For one must see self

Fathom depths

Explore every crack

Even if eyes widen with fright

For if sight is blind 

One cannot know 

Which set of old antlers to let go

They might be crooked and bent

Stiff and in the way

Blocking new growth

A stuckness in the head

Stagnant death

The Buck Moon howls

Shake your mighty head

Shed the outdated rack

It may hurt

The pain will lead right

They have run their course

Give them back to the land

Expose open wounds willingly

To my refining sight

The Buck Moon reveals the secrets of growth

Embracing fully one’s self

While letting go of earth-toned chains

Allow roots to dig deep

And wounded spaces to weep

The Buck Moon delivers a promise sure

Of new velvety and strong

Semetirical too

New branches

New tines 

New ways

New scrapes to be made

The Bouck moon’s truth of the ancient ways

You have exactly what you need 

Like breath and Soil

Deep inside

The code

Like archaic runes

Written on the inside of your bones

Trust the marrow’s flow

Heed the Buck Moon’s Glow