Once in a Blue Moon

The moon came back. It rose, and rose again—
two silver harvests crowding into May,
the orchards doubled, ripened, fell, and then
the second moon shone pale as borrowed day.

Such plenty — yet the few have sealed the store,
have banked the grain and left the rest unfed;
enough to feed the earth; they buy the war,
while fortunes climb and millions beg for bread.

For something in the second moon abides—
a tide no counted month can ever hold,
the thirteenth light, the mother-dark, that rides
the night with myth no almanac has told.

Once in a blue moon, wishes find the gate—
then go, and feed the world before it's late.

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I’m 7 away from triggering the next one. If you’ve been thinking about upgrading, this is one of those moments where it actually completes something beyond me.

I genuinely believe thoughtful writing matters.

Creativity matters. Independent voices matter.

And we need people thinking deeply and making meaningful work now more than ever.

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