The moon is full today in Gemini. Skies sparkle with movement. When Uranus goes direct that means surprise reversals. And good news arrived last night.
I had talked in the afternoon with my friend Shaun, who was distraught. Her parents’ dog—a miniature dachshund named Emily—had been lost in the woods. Intrepid Emily was in the habit of going off by herself, but this time she did not return. Shaun feared Emily had fallen prey to a Great Horned Owl. After searching the woods and leaving messages everywhere, Emily’s human family sank into despair. Days went by with no sign of hope.
“I felt a Funeral, in my Brain,” as my Emily would put it.
The not knowing what had happened, the mystery of Emily’s sudden and inexplicable absence was the cleaver that smashed everyone wide open. Then a few hours after I talked with Shaun, I opened my email to find a message from her. Emily had been found! Picked up on the side of the road by a nice family who had taken her to Banff. Emily, who had been having a rough time of it, would spend the afternoon at a spa, having a facial and a pedicure. Her humans would retrieve her soon. (Okay, I added this last part about the spa.) Shaun wrote: “I don’t know what to say.” I don’t know what to say either. Except maybe: Thank you. For all the Emilies, thank you.
My Emily has this to offer today beneath the Gemini Fool Moon:
#450, c. 1862
Dreams — are well — but Waking’s better,
If One wake at Morn —
If One wake at Midnight — better —
Dreaming — of the Dawn —
Sweeter — the Surmising Robins —
Never gladdened Tree —
Than a Solid Dawn — confronting —
Leading to no Day —
If you are lucky enough to be one of those people who lives in the world of daylight, waking is preferable to dreaming. Because in the daylight, you know what you’re dealing with. Everyone obeys the laws of physics. And the shocks are at least real, rather than surreal.
If you are not one of those people. If you are a poet, say, like Emily, and you are more alive and awake in the dark of midnight, then your reality clicks into place only when you are dreaming. Such a person is actually living on the dark side of the moon. She is more in her skin when her eyes are closed than open. Such an existence, says Emily, is only viable as long as each day leads her to another dream. Her life depends on the continued movement of the earth around the sun. Just like ordinary mortals. The difference is that she cannot grasp what is worthy in those daylight hours. Her hands only know how to pick up the nighttime knitting, when the rules change. Nothing is solid. The dead speak. Her mind stands in many places at once. And she can see through walls into the heart of any question. Furthermore, no one wastes her time with foolishness, lies or fear. No one else lives on the dark side of the moon with Emily. She’s out there by herself. Fortunately for us, she is willing to send us letters from where she lives, so we can know what it’s like over there. And we know she’s all right.