What called loudest to her at night after the dishes were washed and put to rest in the dryer, after ministrations of vanity, brushing teeth and night formula creams, and after the dogs had settled to chasing dream rabbits--what called loudest to her was the night air, blowing in as it was from the east.
She opened the slider to the back lanai and stepped out into the night air. A storm was coming. She could feel it in the air, the negative space it seemed to hold like breath before it is exhaled. And perhaps it was too quiet. Even the geckos were scare.
The moon was full above her, but eclipsed, a fall harvest moon in Pisces, her sign. She lit a candle in the hurricane lamp and watched the flame swell. Standing naked, eyes closed, she imagined her feet growing roots to the rich earth below.
The woman’s hair swirled around her bare shoulders, picked up by the damp night air. She’d been waiting in the moonlight for who knew how long, gusts of wind growing louder by the second. “East wind lover, where are you tonight?”
She made her way down the stairs to the back yard. Wild vines and an overgrown avocado tree sheltered her from the curious eyes of her neighbors, not that she cared. She looked up to the sky, raising her hands above to draw down the moon, a fat orange ball resting at the horizon. She’s shy tonight, the woman thought. She must feel him too.
Arms raised, face pointed to Mother Moon, the woman pulled her arms in tight, crossing them over her chest, accepting Spirit into her body. She closed her eyes and bent forward, touching her feet. Speaking with a clear, strong voice: “Blessed be, my feet, for you have carried me on this journey of life.”
Touching her knees: “Blessed be, you who have knelt in prayer, at sacred altars, and beside the beds of sick children. Touching her belly: “Blessed be, my womb, that has birthed art and love and spirit children—the seat of energy, grounded intuition, and a zest for life.”
Touching her chest: “Blessed be, my heart, water essence, and emotion.” She held the pendant hanging from her neck. Rose quartz. Heart and love stone. It was still warm.
A gust of wind rose up then, but it did not chill her. She felt it caress her skin, gentle touches that excited her, making her body receptive. “Oh, my lover,” she breathed. “You are here at last.” The wind picked up, moving through the trees, through the thick branches of avocado. Her hair flew around her body, tossed in the storm. She had been waiting all week for his arrival. And his voice, then, whispered in her left ear, tickling the sensitive skin along her jaw. His finger moved across her lips.
“Blessed be thy lips that call to me,” he said, finishing the ritual. His voice was soft and deep, breath warm against her skin. “These lips divine.”
He wrapped his arms around her and they stood together, both now fully formed—the Western Wild Woman and her lover of the East Wind.
“The moon is in eclipse,” he said, brushing the hair from her face.
“Yes, I know,” she answered, turning to lock eyes with the man she had manifested. He was exactly as she had remembered, handsome and strong, a storm of emotion she didn’t run from but toward—wind, rain, and crackling energy that breathed life into them both.
“You know what that means,” he said, a small, sly smile creeping across his face. His was less question than statement. She smiled in return, understanding that they would have all night together, something rare and wonderful. His Golden Dawn would meet her Night Moon, celestial bodies touching and caressing, star-crossed by the heavens yet finding each other. Their attraction had always been hot and intense, mostly in dreams, but sometimes in the flesh.
She reached out and put her right hand flat against his chest. His heart beat was strong and rhythmic.
“You’re really here,” she said, shaking her head. “I dream of you so often. You must know that.” In answer, he picked up her hand and kissed her open palm. What magic is this? she wondered. What delightful magic? He leaned forward then and kissed her, melting his body toward hers. Taking her by the hand, he led her inside.
“Lover,” she said, as they left the last rays of moon.
“Yes,” he answered. “At long last.”
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