Full Moon Fever: A Short Story (adapted from an earlier post)

Tonight is the Full Moon. Lycanthropes the world over rejoice. And so don’t I. The night has always fascinated me, and I find the moon hypnotic. Particularly when she – and there’s no denying the moon is a she – is at the full. I could watch for hours. She rises this night pale and almost transparent at sunset, in a sky both resplendent and faded in shades of pink, lavender, jade green, and robins-egg blue. As the sky darkens to a deeper blue the Goddess that rules the Night becomes more luminous and solid. She’ll cast her powerful glow across half the sky at the crest of her journey through the deep heavens. I’ve always loved the particular shade of midnight blue the sky turns as one looks close towards her – the Goddess of many names and faces – Selene, Arianrod, Arduinna, Rhiannon, Diana, Luna.

She whispers of dreams and magic, secrets and possibilities – and yearning. For things unspoken and unthought in the harsh light of day.  Anything can happen in the moonlight. You can dance. And you can run, unbound and unfettered. It ‘s  the Celt in me, because the Fey world seems close. The everyday pulls away and you can feel the night breathe if you pay attention. The feeling is curiously freeing.  As I walk through the woods I know I want to be free again tonight.  The magic calls, and I intend to answer.

But all magic has a price. In blood,  in tears – and as I disrobe and speak the charm I prepare myself to make the payment. “ Bandia Máthair an Oíche. Glacadh leis an íobairt fola. Deontas an Mac Tíre. The Goddess is a bitch – payment is expected immediately and in full. I scream as my body realigns itself. Dropping to all fours, writhing as joints pop, internal organs transform, and muscles stretch over elongated bones. I become feverish and sweaty as my body temperature rises and the new pelt covers me. All my senses – sight, hearing, smell, touch  – are now exponentially sharper. I can only see in shades of black and white, but the tiny part of me remaining human does not care. Suddenly I taste copper as my newly formed teeth shred the inside of my still partially human mouth. The taste fires all my instincts. I’m dangerous now.

Payment accepted, the magic completes my transformation. I rise to my feet panting; mouth still dripping my blood.  I tip my head up towards the beautiful cold orb now sailing through the night sky, and I howl. It quickly becomes a guttural roar. The forest grows utterly silent in acknowledgement of my Becoming. That Goddess of the Night – she’s me. Splendid and Terrible – a Real Bitch. The night breeze brings the scent of prey. Growling, I begin the Hunt.

Image via Photobucket

Full Moon Fever

Tonight is the Full Moon. Lycanthropes the world over rejoice. And so don’t I. The night fascinates me, and I find the moon hypnotic-particularly when she – and there’s no denying the moon is a she – is at the full. I could watch for hours. She rises, pale and almost transparent, at sunset in a sky both resplendent and faded in shades of pink, lavender, jade green, and robins-egg blue. As the sky darkens to a deeper blue the Goddess that rules the night becomes more luminous and solid-casting her powerful glow across half the sky at the crest of her journey through the deep heavens. I love the particular shade of midnight blue the sky turns as you look closer to Luna.
She whispers of dreams and magic, secrets and possibilities – and yearning. For things unspoken and unthought in the harsh light of day. But the moon is forgiving. Anything can happen in the moonlight. You can run, unbound and unfettered. It must be the Celt in me, but the Fey world seems close. The everyday pulls away and you can feel the night breathe -if you pay attention. The feeling is curiously freeing. “And all the nights magic seems to whisper and hush..”. ~’Moondance’, Van Morrison

To finish, here’s an excerpt from my favorite moon related poem/song, and I’m gonna go howl now ;):
“Cold hearted orb that rules the night. Robs the colors from our sight. Red is grey and yellow, white. But we decide which is right-and which is an illusion” ~ ‘Nights in White Satin‘, The Moody Blues

Images via Photobucket, Center (Blue) Photo by Loric at loric_friedli@hotmail.com