Henry David Thoreau dubbed her as the mistress of the night. The harvest full moon returns us to our bloom where love floats up from forgotten places.

Held in her wondrous spell,
Our mistress of the night 
Dazzles and reigns.
Silently she waves her wand over the tidal ebbs,
Our hearts fill with oceans of love,
We are moonstruck.
      ------G. Hill

The flame-red moon, the harvest moon, rolls along the hills, gently bouncing, a vast balloon, till it takes off, rising softly through heaven.
          — Ted Hughes

Blow the trumpet at the new moon, at the full moon, on our feast day.
     ------- Psalm 81:3

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When I first looked back at the Earth, standing on the moon, I cried.
           — Alan Shepard

Buoyancy** There are people who need more light bounced their way. If you know of someone who could use daily inspiration, I would be happy to include them each morning, either by text or email. At no cost. Just let me know via my email, which are private and will not be published: setpointhill@aol.com

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