Worm Moon Awakening Beneath the winter's fading chill,
The soil begins to soften still.
The worm moon rises round and bright,
Then cloaked in shadow turns to night.
A crimson veil,
A blood-red gleam,
Heralding the end of a frozen dream.
Earthworms wake and darken deep,
No fanfare loud,
No trumpets sweep.
Just gently crawl through clay and clod,
Tunneling secrets from the sod.
They break the old,
Enrich the ground,
Turn decay to fertile mound.
What seems lowly,
Small,
Unseen,
Holds the power of the green.
Discard the spent,
The heavy load.
Let old fears dissolve,
Erode.
Through squirming change,
Through patient turn,
New life begins where ashes burn.
The eclipse arrives,
The light retreats,
Shadows dance on hidden beats.
The moon reborn in ruby fire mirrors the soul's deep desire to regenerate what once was torn,
To rise renewed in quiet born.
So heed the worm's unhurried way,
Preserve through night,
Embrace the day.
Enrich your sacred inner earth,
Give old burdens gentle birth,
To harvest rich,
Diverse and true,
Blooming forth in morning dew.
Abundance stirs not with a roar,
But in the hush of something more.
The smallest shift,
The softest crawl,
Prepares the spring for one and all.
Under worm moon's gentle light,
You too emerge into the bright.
Blessed be the quiet revolution,
Your awakening,
Your evolution.