A four week period in time...

And so it was. A few days before, the sunlight had seemed to glisten
with anticipation. Now, it was too strong. Where before birds were
cooing to their mates, now they bickered noisily in the trees above.
Did the dark moon hide out of fear? Did the faint glow of light from
the hallway beckon as a beacon? Did the phone ring only to mock?

And yet&;#8230;and yet she was happy.

Strong in the knowledge that this decision had been hers. This
disruption, this emancipation was truly of her own making. The
constraints, the compromise had become too much to bear. Forever
waiting for the unsaid, filling in the gaps of another's conscience,
dreaming of a future from just one angle&;#8230;now it seemed whole
again. The dreams were solid, more tangible. Real, not airy dreams of
night, nor loose connections in a lyric. This future was achievable.
Even if it was to be alone.

The dark moon gained in strength. The waxing of a new life began.
Silently at first, almost inconceivably. Then slowly, slowly, rocking
two steps forward, one back in gathering momentum. Until the force of
power within her stridently hacked it's way through the weeks ahead,
forging paths through unknown territory, gaining energy and whipping up
leaves of positivity in it's wake. Her smile became rotund,
encompassing the sun, eyes as bright as a young doe&;#8230;sparkling
in naivety amid the forest's lush fruit. And there, there her idea
child was born. There in a small coppice between a larch and an oak,
lay the harvest of her exertion. In the glisten of the full moon, she
caressed it, lovingly. Cherished it in its newbirth. Stroked away it's
caul and gathered it up in her arms&;#8230;the instinct in her
rising to a choke. And as she sang, her heart full of promises, she
finally wept for the lost love she had left behind. For despite her
ownership, she had wanted to share this precious moment...and the birds
bickered once more in the trees above. The moon waned again on its
journey and the idea child moved on to another forest.

The circle turns every month. Accept its powers of frustration, its
fairness of youth, its mother love and its wisdom to let go. Celebrate
its challenges. Unite its strength and feel your way through the
turmoil and exhilaration that is woman.