Chandra
the moon-lord, cup of cool nectar
waterChandra rides his silver chariot through the night, waxing and waning as he spends and refills his light; to dream of him is to make peace with your own changing tides, and to trust that what dwindles in you is only gathering to return.
Fragments
Cursed to fade for loving unequally, he pleaded until the curse was softened into a rhythm, so that his dwindling is never an ending but only the promise of another dawn.
He holds the pool of cool nectar the gods drink down night by night until he thins to a sliver, and then, forgiven and renewed, he slowly fills his silver cup once more.
mooncyclesnectarnightgentleness