The Writing Mamas Daily Blog

Each day on the Writing Mamas Daily Blog, a different member will write about mothering.

If you're a mom then you've said these words, you've made these observations and you've lived these situations - 24/7.

And for that, you are a goddess.

Tuesday, January 06, 2009

 

Solstice Moon

The luminous orb of the full moon blossomed over the horizon last week, a huge swirl of silver and porcelain edged with streaks of charcoal and rose against the wintry sky.

I stopped in my rush to somewhere, struck with awe. I felt small and insignificant, yet connected to everyone and everything, sheltered in the same dome under the same watchful lunar guardian.

I am not a religious person, but as I paused from the usual frenzy of my day to drink in the celestial magic, I envisioned the bright star in the desert sky two millennia ago that compelled shepherds and kings alike to suspend their mundane tasks in search of wonder.

It is the season of wonder now, when darkness yields to light in the astrological fulcrum known as the winter solstice

I do not usually pay the solstice any heed, so I was surprised that my heart felt as full as the moon in this year’s time of dwindling light.

Then I remembered another recent moon. This moon graces the cover of the post-election New Yorker. The cover is almost entirely black. The inky letters spelling out the magazine’s name are barely visible against the night sky. Except for the “O.”  O” for Obama. The “O” is a silvery moon illuminating the Lincoln Memorial below.

I thought of the four million people, our modern-day shepherds and kings, who will soon pack every inch from the steps of the monument honoring the man who freed the slaves to the steps of the U.S. Capitol. They will come from all corners of the earth to pay tribute to a black man from humble origins as he ascends those steps to become President. This, too, feels like a miracle.

We live in a time of crushing anxiety—economic meltdown, war, terrorism, global warming. The ranks of the desperate will surely swell. Yet, there is a silver lining of hope and promise in the days ahead.

Our new president is cool and steady, like the guardian moon that unites us in her luminous glow.

From utmost darkness, the light begins to grow.

By Lorrie Goldin

 

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