On this full moon, I am entering a new phase of joy. I never thought that life could get better, yet it does.
This moon is about opening a door, the tent flap, or a teepee’s buckskin entry and letting the air blow through, carrying worries away.
What worries?
Just the big one… Do I make a difference?
But the wind carries that thought away.
The moon of the pinks, April’s full-woman season. Where life spouts forth from the earth, and the first to poke through the prairie land is pink phlox. Thousands of delicate, fingernail-size pink petals. They will open in the early morning, a hint of green on the edges of their tiered skirt, a minute red dot in its center. By evening the flower wraps its petals around the stamen, protection from the night frost.
Full Moon of the Pinks.
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