02/01/2022
You are the Horizon (said the moon to the fox)
Fox was chasing her tail one day,
As she often does
When she was stopped dead in her tracks
By the light of the rising moon
She curled her tail around her busy paws
White tip twitching nervously,
Closing her pine flecked eyes
And raising her ski jump nose to the sky
She said:
Moon, why is love so hard?
Why don’t I feel fierce?
Why don’t I feel seen?
Why don’t I feel held?
The moon, acting only as a reflection of fox’s inner knowing said:
Fox, I see that in a desperate act of love, you have given away too much of your fire.
You alone must feed the dimly lit embers of your heart.
You’ve built yourself a den.
You have everything you need.
Tend to your garden, fox, that’s all there’s left to do.
Let go of all the busy-ness you’ve created to feel full.
You must take back the kindling you’re throwing at fires that don’t want to be lit.
Can’t you see you’re chasing your tail?
You’re one of my most sensitive creatures.
Your unending optimism and playful delights will not be appreciated by all animals.
You’ve got to use discernment when sharing your light.
“The effort of the imagination is to turn the boundary into the horizon.
The boundary says: here and no further
The horizon says: welcome” (quote by Barry Lopez)
Moon:
You, fox, fur of burning embers were made to emblazon the horizon.
You were made of excitable energy and cunning fire to light up the woods
NO ONE: pounces in the snow like you,
brews tea for all the furry foe,
delights in moths and flowers as for the first time, every time
Gets quite as squirmy, for brutal bushwhacks
Curls up in a bed of moss
points nose to the sky quite as often
and with such gentle kindness as you.
And with that, moon slipped silently behind the mountain line.
Fox sat for a long time remembering who she was before she started all the tail chasing.
She lowered her gaze, and with her tail fixed and fluffed firmly behind her,
She pounced into the blazing horizon
In the direction of her snow-covered garden.
