Dear reader, what’s the last thing you asked the moon? If your answer is “well, I don’t ask the moon anything” then I challenge you to reflect upon the last moment you peered up at that bright orb… seep into that space, the blip in time, the wrinkle in the ozone between you and the moon… get real quiet. Let yourself linger a little while. Dangle there. Listen. The answer echoes.

Though privy to the myriad of unfolding answers, she remains the ultimate keeper of mystery, that moon. Hoisted and poised, she has gazed down upon the sundry lives of our earth, has watched their basking and morphing and unraveling. Four and a half billion years an old soul, it’s no wonder that when we look up at her, the deep, watery questions start silently spilling out of us. The gravity of her wisdom pulls our strings as stealthily as it makes marionettes of the tides.

It is precisely because of the moon’s mystical nature that we are so ruled and riled by her—fertility cycles, oceanic flow, underlying urges and moods and desires all bend and bow to the waxes and wanes. The inventor of natural rhythm herself, the moon pushes and pulls on all hidden forces, enlivening the undulating subliminal undercurrents, the most essential of insanities.

As to ensure the exposure of elemental energies that deserve our attention, our moon’s dim light spreads itself over what otherwise would be swallowed in darkness, enunciates what indeed needs more exploring. She is illumination of uncertainty at its boldest, fiddling with the fate of all things tamed and wild.

The mother of intuition, birthplace of dreams, guide of the unconscious, the moon makes methodically moving toward the shadows a dazzling spectacle of psychological, instinctual proportions. She knows that the shadows have something to say, and it is her job to light your way to and through them.

Mystery looms in the belly of the moon. Perhaps this is why we can feel quietly awed when we look up at her. Inspired, abuzz perhaps. Curious. Going into the unknown—linear time consistently ticking itself into the future, whatever it holds—is one of our universal connectors.

The fear, apprehension, and anxiety surrounding the uncertain is another. The moon is our reminder not to fear the strangeness of being pulled into—whatever’s next. There are forces at work that compel us toward where we need to go, what work we need to do, who and what to trust, to explore, to lean into. Keep following the pulls and urges and instincts and compulsions and gravitations toward what calls you. Stay close, on the skirts of the mystery. Stay in pursuit of the mystery. How—well, that’s all up to you. I might start by asking the moon.

Emily Mundy is the primary author of the Dark Days Tarot Guidebook. Subscribe to the Moon Newsletter below to receive more Tarot poetry and prose.