Tales of the Virgo Moon

Art: Riptide by Sue Goldberg

The water always called, whispering in strange tongues as her blood rushed and the tides surged. Between the moon and her there were no secrets. Nothing hidden from the gloaming that promised its night of strange fables, already stippling her skin as she dreamwalked the shoreline. Whirlpools shimmered in the footfalls wending their way to the brackish shore.

Further out in the centre of the lake she could see something bobbing in the current, hard to make out but clearly clamouring for her scattered attention. Without hesitation she began to wade, ignoring the voices on the hillsides far above that never ventured towards the tide.

As soon as the water licked her ankles the sequence began. Her marrow began to shimmer, illuminating the old codes scribed on her bones beneath skin made translucent by the moon. Up and down her spine the current rushed and eddied in the sinuses. She felt herself begin to shift no longer caring whether she could be seen, this strange creature travelling the shallows guided only by moonlight and guile.

The riptide pulled at her knees buckling them into surrender and she began to fall in slowed motion into the river's ancient embrace. For a long time held just beneath the surface as the moon danced over her and the denizens played in her hair. Moved to a place beyond breathing, stilled and held by the rushing tide, water flowing through her every cell.

Some time later in the deepest dark of the night the tide returned her to standing. She felt vaster, a liquid expansion of her margins and a keening refinement of her own tide pools. A new mystery distilled in her, its tide swimming in her moon bright eyes.

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Virgo full moon dreaming in the Pisces tides
Tale c. Kerrie Basha, 2024