Here is a shared experience from the night of the full ‘Strawberry Moon’ on June 20th. A warm evening after a wet morning promised the sight of Nightjars hunting, and the moon was a bonus,
The mist quilt slips across the sodden heath
thickening at waist height in the cooling air.
Crepuscular flyers land, unseen, then chirr.
Released from trees, the pink rimmed moon
escapes the honeysuckle’s sweet embrace
as the longest day softly turns its face.
Glistening black slugs feast safely on the grass
gaping Nightjar mouths only hunt emerging moths
incessantly and urgently, like seekers after truth.
We stand, elated statues, in their noiseless swirl.
Mystery is the sound of wing flap and chirring
Mood is the touch of the soft Moon’s lighting.
Reverie is shattered by unexpected harshness
Muntjac’s distant barking shatters our cloister,
cuts through moving wisps draping drab heather
challenging our presence in the looming darkness.
We leave towards the Moon as chirring diminishes,
a strange sense of longing gradually eases.
On Dunwich Beach yearning returned.
Selene beamed down on layered shining clouds
lighting a pathway on the sea’s rippling road
right to our feet at the whispering surf’s edge.
Transfixed by a longing to walk that invitation
but blocked at the border of endless susurration.
Moonlight on water can illuminate our longings
intangible reflections with no connection to meaning.
