UNBORN
for the full moon on August 9th, 2025
Part I: Introduction
Full Moon Tea for August 9th:
Rosemary (Rosmarinus officinalis)
Birch (Betula spp.)
Elder (Sambucus canadensis)
Within each of us lie a multitude of unborn worlds and un-lived potentials, sitting like seeds in the dark soil of our psyches. Some are sown by going through life’s experiences, and some are with us innately, always residing inside of us. Just like a cache of seeds, not all of our potential will break its dormancy and come to fruition. Much of our inner potential — ideas, hopes, new possibilities or expressions — will not come into being. Instead, these will remain within the great source from which all things come, the infinite holder of lives not yet lived.
I think of this now, in the dusty heat of late summer when seed heads hang heavy on their stalks, and all things come into ripeness. When there are still clutches of eggs — laid by our neighboring birds — yet to be hatched. I found a nest full of such eggs in our garden; it was a delicate tangle of stems and thin branches, carefully hidden in the low branches of a hawthorn tree. There amongst the thorns and leathery leaves a tawny, crimson-streaked cardinal sat. Her nest was at eye level and in a place we passed regularly, so we gave her as much space and quiet as possible. She sat there silently, wide eyed and still whenever we went by.
And then one day she left, and didn’t come back. Her nest — with its unhatched eggs — was abandoned. I grieved and fretted over her loss, which was our loss, too. I felt heavy with guilt, knowing we had disturbed this cardinal mother with our garden activities and human ways. Heartbroken for the eggs that were left, I held out hope that she would return to them.