This Past Full Moon

In the secret garden in was thickly overcast this past full moon. The fine silver chains are never visable but always strong when the moon is waxing.  During the Waxing Gibbous Moon you can also think of my life becomming a dramatic circus.  I am the Gypsy Puridai, the matriarch of the tribe.  The responsibility lies heavy on my shoulders, the power becomes blurred and the smokeyness of it dark.  The records I hold  un-understandable. The keys lost in my hair!  I lose my sight and just before I am totally blinded by the shear dark, the mist lifts and the chains vanish and gets blown away like old spider webs by this new wind.  Soon it starts to rain. 

The magical water washes away the old dust and grime from the trees and the flowers and from my mind. As it is pouring down I become lighter and lighter.  The river faster and faster and the waterfall angry and fierce.

Once in a blue moon i fall in love. But not this time.  There are two definitions of a Blue Moon; both are a type of Full Moon. If the moon actually looks blue, it's caused by a rare type of dust in the atmosphere.