Strange Crossing

Art by Leonora Carrington, "Wild Card" from The Space Between Society, 1942

We have just made the strangest crossing, one and all unwittingly. While we were sleeping without dreaming, wishing without hoping, forgetting the true nature of the frame. Tiny pulses and synapses in a constant exchange beneath thick earth skins as sky paths roared and ribboned all about us. All our worlds woven through us in this one, danced through the sequence again by ancient cogs that creak and shimmer eternal.

First we must be drenched, plunged to resurface gasping through the fathomless whirlpools of Pisces' anaretica. Its inherent dissolution loosening the bonds to what has already passed. Its inexorable draw over the teeming falls at the far end of the zodiac as sure as time passing, and just as malleable.

Something even greater rumbles beneath these depths, below the sharp glass of rockfall and the labyrinth of sinus and cave. A molten sea broils waiting, magnetised by generative force a million miles away. The sun moves across the threshold. Plasmatic cores in all our cells and symmetries convert its torrenting codes into an initiation sequence that moves like a huge rolling wave, nuclear in its power to effect change.

The blast ripples and burns, innervating and eviscerating as it emerges from the border between then and now, shunting seasons mood and mayhem. This year a cracking herald underpinning the slingshot of eclipse season, whose twin behemoths stand like sentinels either side of this tipping point.

Equinox is where we made the crossing. This threshold conjures briefest symmetry, a hanging moment that delivers an eventide between forces of dark and light, rising and falling, ending and beginning. A pause for a deep breath in, the hard click and fast adjustment, the sudden shot of sulfur as the flint sparks and leaps, the yawning bellows that begin to fill and flame.

No time for singing over the flames yet. We make this crossing again and again in the coming clutch of days. Dancing its sequence on repeat; Venus going first, again. Then the moon eclipsing again in the breach. Mercury and Neptune crossing at the gates in its wake and backwash. All the tides colliding as fire and water forge something entirely new. Here. Now.

Alchemists to the front.


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Words c. Kerrie Basha 2025