Recently I paged through a spiritual book in which the author’s channeled Guides claimed that the moon is dead, as in devoid of spirit. So, okay, no sound and light are given off by the moon, but in cultures where feminine divinity is still very much alive, they recognize the moon is also very much alive. A repository of womanly spirit, she’s awash with soft and gentle waves of devic vibration that emanate below the threshold of our senses and the most refined scientific equipment. When the moon reflects no sunlight, her own spirit is purely creative (creator). At that time, her spirit functions in a manner similar to a ‘black hole’ or what tribal people might consider a ‘womb.’ In the dark phase, moon as creative force is intimately involved in the birth—and rebirth—of every life in our cosmic neighborhood. As such, the moon serves as Grand(est) Mother to the two youthful powers who animate all the rest of us: Brother Sky and Sister Earth.