A Numinous Experience

Gaining the mountain top, I climbed the old Blue Ridge lookout tower.
Dwarfed by the giant microwave towers around it,
It still gave a clear vista.
The sun was doing its daily magic,
Glowing Homer’s Nose, Dennison Peak, Moses and Maggie
Into a deep rose,
Moving a dark shadow up their flanks
As the opposing magician sank behind the coast range in the west.

The full moon sprang up behind Maggie,
Like a smaller sun, glowing orange.
I was caught in the enchanted place I knew from childhood stories:
East of the sun and west of the moon.
The enchantment so filled me that I forgot to breathe.
Lost in beauty, every cell rejoicing,
Privileged to be in that exact place at that exact moment.
Closing my eyes, I still feel the cool breeze bathing my body.
See the rosy glow all around me. Hear the silence.

Could it be that on each full moon,
At certain points around the Earth,
Unsuspecting chosen ones witness this magic,
This enchanting moment when
Mother Earth turns,
Grandmother Moon springs into view,
And Father Sun looks on, smiling,
As he dips beneath the western horizon,
Dramatizing the blessing of being human?
These are the moments that sustain us when being human doesn't seem so wonderful. My laundry room  sink sprang a leak, evidently weeks ago, wetting the floor beneath the tile, unnoticed until the water wicked up the walls. Now the room is gutted, the insurance adjuster has come and gone and tomorrow the demolition of the kitchen flooring starts. I definitely hadn't planned this, but I know it is time to purge in order to rebuild in my consciousness, so perhaps this is another exterior drama to illustrate a spiritual truth, like the beautiful moment on top of Blue Ridge.