Harvest Moon Rising
Susan Heffron Hajec
A shimmering moon came down
from the sky
and touched her soft earth
in the Wildwood.
“Will you take a ride with me?”
asked the moon, gentle and soft.
Intrigued by this lunar visit, she sat herself
in the welcoming center womb
of the moon and it rose
once again into the high reaches
of the swirling color creations
of her moon-lit sky with no ceiling.
“Where are we going?” she inquired
as stars, like lightening bugs, flicked
all around her.
“To your harvest,” replied the November moon
as the horizon widened below her.
She looked down and she saw millions
of seeds of her love, planted over the varied
seasons of her life span.
They had fallen deep into the soil, seeking
both the heat of the earth’s center
and the touch of the sun above.
And risen to the surface were bountiful fruits,
many of which were random and scattered —
unplanned, spontaneous seedlings —
some, such a simple seed as to have been
forgotten by her.
Now, they spread across the Wildwood,
seeping out into the wider world and
enriching and abundant for all that they touched.
She, the author of kindness and creation,
relaxed by the kaleidoscope of color-filled purpose,
breathed into the movement of Harvest Moon
and now, opened even more
to the discovery found in journey.