I walk today with a sense of resignation, but resignation to what, I am not quite sure. Perhaps I lack hope, although it feels more like a fear that is present, a fear of daring to hope, to hope that there may be an end to this infernal darkness that covers me like a grey fog, seeping into my bones like some miasma for which there is no cure. The Star is one of the most beautiful cards in the deck, so serene, so much to believe in, so far to fall if I am truly lost in a land that is merely an illusion. What if I open the door and see nothing? “What then?”, I ask myself……… “What then?”
I pause upon the landing, stillness descending, and I leave the grey shadows fall from my mind, as the light from The Star descends around me like a comforting shawl. I let it seep into my skin, and into my bones, filling my cells with celestial purity, and, renewed and revived, I open the wooden door and step through the luminous crystalline portal of The Star.
I am standing in what seems to be an encampment, which is gathered around the shores of a large lake. The gathering of tents and fluttering pennants lies at the foot of a steep sided escarpment, that reaches its moth coloured buttresses into the blue skies. The silvered surface of the lake is limpid, slick with stillness and composure, and not as much as a whisper disturbs its serene countenance.
Around the camp, there is a feeling of constant movement, with the inhabitants of The Star, quietly going about their business. They are tall ethereal looking creatures, beautiful and strangely translucent, some more so than others. Many of them in fact, look as solid as I do, whereas others are almost completely transparent, moving like dancing sunlight, practically invisible against the blue skies. The transparent star people seem to be moving away from the camp, whereas the more solid looking figures seem to be migrating quietly towards the lake at the foot of the mountain.
I see a figure coming towards me, a beautiful woman, seated on a horse, long white hair flowing down her back, and coloured fractal eyes that turn continuously like kaleidoscopes, she is the lady of The Star, and she is beckoning me to her. I walk over, and as I reach her side, look up into her calm face, and my eyes recoil in horror, as I see that she has no mouth, only eyes, eyes that seem to speak more descriptively than any language that I have ever heard. Pictures and images wash through my mind, as her eyes transport me through the universe, viewing realities as varied as the diversity of her gaze. I am flooded with feelings, emotions and memories, washing through me like a torrent, a flood, a river of consciousness that flows from her in an unending comet of light.
Absorbed by the energy of The Star, I jump up behind her without thinking, and together we travel out of the camp towards the mountain, the horse climbing rapidly up the trail that weaves zig zag through the rocky terrain, upwards towards the summit. As we climb, I look back towards the lake, and the encampment beside it, and view the activity around the lake. The star people that seem more solid are washing themselves in the lake, and as they do so, they are losing their solidity; they are becoming more lucid, more crystalline, lighter and more ephemeral. When they are almost invisible, they leave the lake and head off once more, it seems, to carry on with their work in the world. I can only guess at the activities with which they are involved with, but they must be bearers of light, bearers of tranquility, of peace, assuaging the pain and the conflict that assails us, comforting the lost and the lonely, the grief stricken and the desperate, the ones who are without hope.
I continue on up the mountain, behind the voiceless lady, and eventually reach the summit, the peak of The Star. There are more figures at the top, but they seem different, they are neither transparent nor solid, but seem to have an ethereal permanence, fluid yet also static, and they are gathered round an enormous basin that seems to be carved from amethyst. The creatures are singing, a low chant, hauntingly beautiful like the ancient Gregorian songs of medieval monks, and as they sing, powerful magic is woven into the air, reaching up into the heavens, a fragile musical net that catches the light of the countless stars and collects it, drop by drop, gathering it into the amethyst bowl. The crystalline structure of the vessel condenses the light into liquid, and channels it down into the tiny stream that flows beneath, as it starts it’s journey down the mountainside to the lake that lies far below. I watch this magical apparition, the star people gathering the light from the universe, and manifesting it on earth, magnifying and enlarging it with their powerful voices, as eventually it becomes a raging torrent, flooding down the mountainside into the vastness of the lake below.
I look again at the figures on the shores of the lake, washing themselves in the light of The Star, and then journeying back into the world to continue with their work, healed, refreshed and renewed. I stand in awe, as I gaze upon this moment of purity and continuity, this sense of forever. The Lady of The Star looks at me with love in her eyes….. she says nothing, for she cannot……. there is no need.
The Daughter of The Firmament
The Dweller between the Waters
Zodiacal Trump of Aquarius
My name is Joanna Grant, I am an Astrologer, Tarot Reader and Writer, who lives on the beautiful Beara Peninsula in the South West of Ireland. My long knowledge of Astrology leads and informs my practice in offering guidance and empowerment, helping others to lead a more authentic and magical life. You can read more about me here.
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