I have this relationship with the moon that I don't think I've ever written about. Maybe it's because I was a preschooler when Neil Armstrong set foot on it or maybe it's something more primal. I can't say. The moon in a day sky especially feels mysterious and, in some way, inviting. Just a white orb in a field of blue.
Today's word, "Await," had a few possibilities for me, particularly since I rely on public transportation in a city notoriously bad for public transportation. In other words, I spend a lot---a LOT---of time waiting at bus stops.
But that "A" at the front of the word felt like something other than "waiting" for a bus or for the Messiah or even Godot for that matter. It felt like something less tangible than even the undefined Godot. Wouldn't the play have a different feel if it were called "Awaiting Godot"?
Maybe I'm having some idiosyncratic word parsing here. It's a feeling, not a definition.
Anyway, as I've thought on the word all day, I kept coming back to a night sky and particularly the moon. A moon seems to have some promise in it to me (again, an Apollo thing?) but it's not going to fulfill it, either. It just hangs there and says, "at dawn, maybe, you'll see . . . "
Something about the moon teases me with potential I can't name . . .
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