There will be a new moon tomorrow, which won’t arrive in my time zone until suppertime. We have been in the phase of the moon that astrologers call the balsamic phase. It is when the moon goes dark in the sky and it just so happens it was the phase of the moon when I was born. Astrologers ascribe this time as one ideal for rest and healing. Which has been the case for me this particular lunation. I cannot get enough sleep to beat the last vestiges of the bug that gripped me two weeks ago.
The sleep and dreams partially account for the later in the morning (coursing towards noontime) posting of the Poetry Daily today. The other reason was that another poem arrived first. It was clearly one meant for a friend and not for public consumption. The initial line is a quotation from Khalil Gibran.