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November Moon

November, Corn Depositing Moon: Iatayaepana
The sun falls lower in the sky each day. The earth has turned the color of buckskin and one to sleep. I have been to the cemetery to talk to my ancestors. I left them food to eat, and water to drink, thoughts to comfort them. When my time comes, will I be ready? What if I don't want to die?

I built a house once. Its walls wer strong and thick; there were windows on all sides that let in sunlight. The roof stood up under heavy snow and rain. I lived in this house a long time, then I moved away. I had children once. They were good children, though it seemed they would never grown up. Now they are gone. Their toys are put away. Their rooms have been swept clean. I see their faces in my dreams. That time is past; it is another time now. Soon my children will be as old as I am now.

I am alone, yet not alone. If God exists, it is a spirit that runs through me every moment, filling me with awe and caution, appreciation and the gift of creativity. I must be thankful for what is and stop thinkng about what is not.

If you had the opportunity, what in your life would you do differently? How would you choose your mate? Your lover? Your friends? Would you build a good house if you knew you had to leave it?

Mortality is the recognition of each day's purpose.
Taken from "Dancing Moons" by Nancy Wood

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