Moon Blessing (guest blogger John O'Donohue)

Perhaps when you meet the one in whom your heart can really be at home, distance does not make you falter. Longing sweeps you upward. Arriving in magic, you are the moth and you are gone.

Maybe a circle of white wind plucks wild hyacinths for your hair, and no one hears you blossoming fresh with love’s scent. Only a young moon flowing like a silver well over sky mountains meets your gaze.