Once I was a new moon, unseen, hidden in the dark universe of my mother’s womb. As she fed on the sun, swallowing sunlight silently gathered by plants, I grew into a small sliver of a crescent moon – a mere curl of the girl I would be.
Waxing day by day, more of me could be seen – small hands, feet, and face slowly revealed from the soft tissue, while the bones, pliable as new twigs, lengthened. Mother hid her lunate shape until I increased and she felt my orbit. When I reached the first quarter phase, her belly mirrored me.
For some length of days, I waxed gibbous within and her universe expanded. She knew my time would come soon.
When she could eat no more light, I shone through her, a full moon making my own self visible.
We women belong to the moon, following her cycle through the sky, waxing and waning through our lives. In this way the world is born again and again.
I have waxed full in my spin around the world, and despite an empty universe of a womb, I have had two full moons orbit my life.
Now I wane, and this phase – my last quarter – is almost spent.
Once I was full of light, but now so much is hidden. I follow the path forward, shrinking my way home in the dark night under the starshine, In the early morning hours, curled upon my bed, a small crescent shape beneath the covers, I wait and wonder about that final phase when I am too new to be seen.
Photos courtesy of Jay Tanner on Creative Commons
year-struck 
What a glorious story of our passages to our present lives. Thank you.
Thank you for reading.
A very romantic and touching study of time going by, yearstruck. it is always a great pleasure to see the world, and our lives through your eyes.
Time goes by so quickly; I’m glad to share some of it with my blogging friends like you.
Lovely meditation, so apt for the day after the lunar eclipse!
I have been struck lately by the beauty of the moon. So I am not only yearstruck but moonstruck as well. 🙂
This is so painfully beautiful.
Thank you, Myra.
Wow. Amazing analogy and amazing writing!
I appreciate your comments. Thank you.
Beautiful version of time passing and relationships and life.
I’m glad you enjoyed it.
Simply beautiful.
Simple, and complex, and so appropriate. Lovely.
Don’t worry. You’re just going through a phase.
YS, I delight in your metaphors and the way you get us to look at a subject differently.
Thank you for ‘waxing’ poetic.
And no wonder that this post has a truly tidal pull upon the imagination…
Beautiful.
Just lovely. What a beautiful story you tell.
Thank you so much. I’ve been moonstruck these past two months, so it’s taken time to reply.
Beautifully expressed.
Thank you, and thank you for reading.
Are you okay? I felt a lot of sadness here…
I’m doing great, thank you. I tend to be terminally cheerful, so when I write sad things I always feel that they are sappy or over-the-top. I’ve just been doing a lot of waxing and waning, so my time on the blog has been limited.