Old Ghost Lune

Photographic art by @karendel

The full moon on the rise is cloaked in shadows. She arrives in the wake of a changeling week that unlocked a codex whose purpose is vaster than we can fathom from here. She is the luminous portent of an upcoming eclipse season that will deeply dredge our worlds. Much as we may crave its simple sugar coating, this Libran full moon is not wafting in rosy shallows beaming harmony and balance. She has designs that go far deeper than that.

On the axis of relationship we stare into the headlights, caught frozen between me and we. The heat of revolution has rendered our world a smelting pot and the scum is rising fast to its broiling surface now. All the us and themming is revealing far murkier individual shadows, the awful tell of the mob.

Aries actualisation has been soddenised by the Pisces stellium, blurring old boundaries and dissolving old world ego stunt doubles. On her way to the peak, the moon has opposed Chiron salting identity wounds and conjuring their overcoming, if you will tend the deeper tear in your scar tissue.

Pluto stands squarely adjacent to the incoming peak, the dark lord digging spiny fingers even more deeply into disguise. Our underworld is howling, clawing to be felt and heard. It will not be denied, wrapped in the cosy riddles of woke bypassing, blaming or shaming. Pluto standing sentinel at the gateway of the gods is demanding we ground down, even deeper into what will transform us all.

Tonight's blaze calls forth the old ghosts that live in your bones and makes of them an exorcism. Her revelations tell a tale of long ago that is ready to be released. Burn the old love letters on a midnight pyre and break the binds that once held you tight. Let the night air suck the stale spectre of what once was as moonbeams cautise your new margins. Awaken to find yourself ensouled anew.


Words c. Kerrie Basha 2022