Wolf Moon Dreams
It is hard to forget to honour the full moon when it is tattooed on your wrist and shines down on you from a foggy night sky. I poured more water over the holey stone in the little clay bowl I keep ever-filled for Old Woman. It’s polite to always have a drink for her. My mother brought it back from Ireland, raw on the outside and the bright clear blue of glaze on the inside. I dropped in my silver ring and anointed myself with water from head to toe. I poured whiskey in the goblet, slàinte Carline! I lit the beeswax candles, burned the incense, and set fire to some tobacco, blowing the smoke on my spirit fetiches. I switched the tarot card on the altar to the Queen of Swords for Aquarius. I dreamt often of this card last winter and know it holds hints of the future for me. In the Circle of Life Tarot it is an elven queen brandishing a sword astride a snowy owl flying over a snowy landscape.
I lit a candle for a very sick friend, it dissolved into a puddle aflame like tears of fire, the candle unburnt. In my dream we were together and a woolly bear caterpillar crawled across my hand. Its hairs were so long. “It will be a very cold winter,” I told her. She disappeared and suddenly I was leaving a bowl of pomegranate seeds as an offering in a graveyard. I dreamed someone asked me to write down a list of the most beautiful people I know. I had no trouble writing down my friends’ names, but when it came to writing my own, I tried over and over, failing and having to erase it each time. I dreamed I argued with a friend. I dreamed of a beach by the sea, tangled with debris from a massive storm. I dreamed my home had a hidden room I’d never known about before and I turned it into a temple, painted green and covered in woodcarvings. I have gotten better at marking my dreams and what phase the moon is in when I dream them.
I beat my bear hide drum with yew. I read the cards for myself. Conflict, the empress, and the beloved showed their faces to me. I blow out the candles. I paint poisonous plants in black and white and I write about blood and bones. Another full moon comes and goes.