Hunter’s Moon

Hunter’s Moon.
The light, betrayed.
Snake in the grass.
The wolf that strayed.
Scorpion’s tail,
Swirling round.
Churning, sweeping,
Unearthing ground.
Digging, dredging,
Stirring things up.
Rather than sipping,
Shatters the cup.
I see it, I feel it,
The barb in my breast.
I hear then from spirit,
The words – “Let it rest.”
It calls me, my healing,
A salve like the sea.
Washes over and whispers
A calm, “Let it be.”