the lost man chronicles
book eight: A Message from the Moon
the estrus of the full Moon
last night and into the wee hours of this morning, for a twelve hour stretch it seemed as if the Moon was shining brighter than ever. Her luminous power made me swoon like never before.
in the midst of this lunar syncope, i readily conjured how easy it was for our ancestors to go crazy with delusional inductions attributing Her glory to the work to an ensemble of omnipotently whimsical gods. Her overwhelming pulsation of empyrean pull evoked emotions which bordered on fear, courtesy of Her deceiving innocent white glare, which minaciously gleamed the warmth of an looming apocalypse.
wow. despite this mendacious woozy of sentimentality, the feeling churned an intense glowing akin to the radiance of new love. awe percolated inspiration and perked a sensation of earthbound ecstasy.
smitten, i realized it is no wonder we all want to either howl at or make love under the estrus of full moon.
the art of living the art of love