Last night was New Moon.
It’s been stormy here the last few days, and I intended to break out my drum and flute— something I have not done in quite while— and retreat to the patio to merge with and work with the forces of nature over my head.
There is work to do.
Boundary work… healing work… shifting work…
Other things happened, and I never made it outside.
But in my dreams,
as I slept,
I had my drum out,
and it would not bang.
It would bang, but it did not have the deep, resonant, perfectly vibrating tone that made it irresistible for me to claim as my own in waking life.
I was out back, on my covered patio…
I brought it indoors, where it reverberates off the walls all around me and bring me to tears: Nothing.
Just a thunk.
When I was showering this morning, preparing for work, I thought on these things…
My Drum has not been banging.
My Flute has not been giving voice to my Heart.
It is a New Moon…