The Tears of the Moon–do you know them?  They are the sacred healing waters flowing from our deepest well of feelings.  Of Knowing.  Though the eyes may look away, the heart cannot.  Joy and grief, loss and respite, pain and orgasm; the Tears of the Moon trace a timeless labyrinth of love.

Do you know them?  When we wept within our mother’s womb, our Tears were one with the amniotic fluids–our birth waters.  The very same Sea Waters that all the generations of Mothers before us swam.  See them there, an endless school of fetal fishes waiting their turn at the Yoni Gate.  All of them, all of us, waiting to be cast up upon the forever-strange shore as this two-legged species.  We are neither fish nor fowl, but steeped in dreams of both.

Above, behind, below this primal flow of life, our Sister Moon encircles us. Our Mother Moon.  Without her abiding gravitational embrace of this planet home, there would be no living, tidal Sea Waters.  How she came to be our materfamilias remains a mystery.  And wisely so.

 Though her orbit has been steadily drifting farther afield these past 4.5 billion years, life would not have evolved as it has without our great moon (fifth largest in the solar system) circling so closely.  Settling into a perfect triad with the Sun and the third planet, she rocked Earth’s salt waters in deep, cyclical rounds, stirring the depths and running shallow tides up onto emergent shores.  That alchemy brewed the perfect conditions for species to evolve and adapt. At least seven times in our history, going back some 400 million years, primeval mammals evolved out of the ocean as land dwellers and returned to her again as sea creatures.

Imagine this.  For at least a million years, we’ve been counting the Moon’s menstrual blood days.  We reckoned her nine lunar months of gestation, the 18.6 years of predictable eclipses and standstills.  She helped us measure and honor the life cycles of Plants and Animals and Seasons.  The timing of Story & Song, Ceremony & Migration. We knew her.  She knew us each.  We were beheld, and beholden. Can you imagine it?  The Knowing in the belly.

Because here, now, a quarter of the way through this next new century, our intimate relationship with Luna and her tears loses precious ground daily.  The high drama of our bodies’ salt tides—hormones and blood and lymph—recedes in the blue light of digital agendas.  The waxing and waning of Lunar phases dissipates in the light pollution of night skies.  Our abyssal bodies, evolved out of the Moon’s tidal seas, are sapped by prescription drugs, recreational tonics, toxic waters, air and food.

And yet.  And yet.  Summoning up the depths of our Mother lode is just a breath away.  Inhale our living connection—yours and mine—exhale that moment. Inhale our entangled global matrix, exhale that moment. Inhale the cosmic plasma that weaves the universes, exhale that moment.  The Lacrimae Luna will flow, and you will remember.

She holds all our memories, Luna does.  Like the chords of whale songs resounding the width of the Pacific, our ancestral memories resonate still on those tides.  The fabric of time/space vibrates with the unforgotten and the not-yet-birthed and so we are never untended.  Not ever.

The Lunar tides unfold in cycles daily. Monthly. Annually. In eighteen and a half year rounds.  In astrologically calculated 29-year progressions, and in the Saros eclipse cycles 1300 to 1500 years long. No matter which seasons of the Moon we tune ourselves to, there is a rhythm that echoes in our connective tissues.  If we will only fall beneath the fragile surface of these lives we skate along, there are dimensions awaiting our return.  A homecoming that no winds of change can diminish.  Now, please, come away home.  The tears of the Moon will carry you here.

If you’re lost, and you look, you will find me, Time after Time.                                                                If you fall I will catch you, I will be waiting, Time after Time.                                                                Time after Time.

–Song lyrics by Cyndi Lauper & Ron Hyman.  Listen to the bittersweet Eva Cassidy cover here