the lost man chronicles
lunar spontaneity .62

on a whim, i took a ride on the tram tonight. it was a beautiful hallow's evening and The Moon came out to meet me.

we drank wine together, sat and talked, walked, and even ran together.

breathlessly, She hung high above the sky, as i likewise was suspended over the east river. She looked divine half-dressed in black, la luna who at times, when i looked up at Her, seemed only half there.

maybe, that's why they think she's a little loony. for who else would so spontaneously come out to play, to feel alive! to laugh, and frolic publicly with me?

while we rode over to Roosevelt Island She looked down into the water and whispered to me from on high, "I am whet with the desire to jump right in." i wanted to reach out to touch Her in a knowing way, so that She would not have to take such a plunge to get wet and feel the excitement of what felt like a first rendezvous.

and i too was feeling as adventurous, for as the evening wore on and darkness and the end came upon us, i also yearned to be stripped bare of all worldly possession, pretensions and thoughts to be one with Her as semilunar light reflecting life over the water.

yes, She was wild and willing and free to be with me, if only for one night, and that made me a bit crazy too.

"Mythology—I think of as the homeland of the muses,
the inspirers of art, the inspirers of poetry, and to see life as a poem
and yourself participating in a poem is what the myth does for you.

By poem, I mean a vocabulary not in the form of words,
but of acts and adventures which connotes something transcendent
of the action here, and which yet informs the whole thing,
so that you always feel in accord with the universal being.
~ Power of the Myth, Joseph Campbell

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