THE MOON
-XVIII-
A large low moon the color of fresh cream, thick and silky, straddles the countryside's horizon. On either side of it, like gate-keeping sentinels, stand massive stone towers. The invitation to enter a dream unfolds like the footpath bisecting the two fortresses. At the beginning of the lane a purple crayfish, claws distended, reaches up out of its pond. The buttery planet seems so close to earth, one could almost walk up the winding foot path and reach out to grab it like the crayfish is attempting to do, leaning to it, surrendering to that force.
Part way along the path, a dog bays at the moon. Its cousin, the wolf, on the other side, howls with abandon. Like some prehistoric crayfish, the dreamer envisions a world turned inside out. In it, the dog's allegiance and the wolf's voracious appetite carry equal baffling weight. Lunatics, those moon struck individuals, are afloat in this realm of symbols. Every action, every word is freighted with arcane significance. Having traveled beyond the towers, the somnambulist delves deeper and deeper into the mystery till a loosening occurs, a derangement.
Upright: Approaching the dark night, the incomprehensible.
Reversed: Clarity after a period of confusion.