By Sadee Bee
I carefully pour my circle of salt / and lie within in the cool grass /
eyes fixed on the full Moon / waiting to commune /
Her light bathes me in safety / serenity / understanding /
The Moon is the mother I craved /
The change in her cycles / can be charted on a calendar /
Predicted for years to come / Mother Moon is consistent /
Safe in my salt circle / she never misses a meeting /
She listens to my dreams, my fears, and everything in-between /
Never interrupting / or criticizing /
Like the mother I wished I had /
Before I found my circle of salt / I had only my bedroom window /
My only comfort a closed door / a finally silent home /
Perhaps the salt circle was my silent tears shed /
as I gazed upon her beauty / wishing to live /
With Mother Moon in the stars /
Was she as lonely as I had been? / when men dared to
land on her / was she as afraid as I was? / I know she has
a dark side / A piece of her she keeps hidden /
From the world / where she holds her grief behind the beauty /
This I know / because she is just like me /
Nothing like the mother I did have /
nor the parent I hoped would stay / when the Sun must take her place /
Mother Moon takes her rest in the sunrise / morning dew dissolves
my salt / ending the communion between us / Her light
and love will return when the night comes / I will be there
waiting / for Mother Moon to hold me close /
Sadee Bee spent her time creating her own stories both on paper and in life. Diagnosed in her early twenties with Bipolar Disorder, Borderline Personality Disorder, and C-PTSD; she spent a long time trying to make sense of her own world and mind. Poetry, personal essays, and occasionally fiction have been an outlet for heavy feelings and past traumas. Sadee uses her work to shine a light on the hidden parts of mental illness and the effects of childhood trauma. She also speaks about her specific experiences regarding trauma and mental illness as a Black, Queer woman in Black spaces.
