Invocation to the Pink Moon on April Fools Pink Moon, first blush of spring lifting yourself over the bones of winter, I call to you tonight. Not as a believer but as a conspirator in symbolism a quiet accomplice in the human habit of meaning. They say you are pink though you rise silver and indifferent. They say you govern tides, madness, fertility, luck. Tonight is April Fools Day, the festival of tricksters, the holiday of cosmic winks. So I stand beneath you aware of the joke. We name you for flowers that have not yet opened. We make rituals for gravity and call it magic. We whisper to a rock in orbit and expect answers. 1/2
Pink Moon, patient mirror of our longing, accept this foolish invocation. Bless the ones who dare to play with meaning. Bless the skeptics who light candles anyway. Bless the witches who know belief is a tool and wield it like a blade of moonlight. Let tonight be holy in the way laughter is holy sharp, unexpected, breaking the spell of certainty. If this is a joke, let it be a good one. Let hope rise anyway. Let ritual work not because the universe listens but because we do. Pink Moon, patron of irony and beginning witness our beautiful foolishness. And if you are nothing but stone and reflected sun, then witness this: even knowing that, we still sing. 2/2
Invocation to the Pink Moon on April Fools
Pink Moon,
first blush of spring
lifting yourself over the bones of winter,
I call to you tonight.
Not as a believer
but as a conspirator in symbolism
a quiet accomplice
in the human habit of meaning.
#poetry #witchcraft #invocation
