Circle

The circle that circles the circles - the orb that reeks of starlight - the wheel that turns the axial age. All is moving in perfect synchronicity - all moving their parts as one - the wheel of life churning, chugging - constant - unstoppable. In the gleaning of this full moon - is my Chiron moon - the moon in Chiron - the teacher - the wounder - the one who lives his whole life wounded by Hercule’s poison arrow - there is no escaping its pain - for he is immortal and cannot die - just like me, immortal - but still dying. I can’t fathom it - don’t have the instruments to measure what is happening in the backwaters of my mind soul and body. I only know this: to be in it - stay in the wound - for its teachings are immense. This one time transit lasts for a few year and now I know - the pain makes more sense - but I still don’t really know the powerful alchemy of one who wounds - the immediate separation from my mother at birth for hours, maybe days. I will return to this primordial wounding when 50 - it makes it’s home a place of healing and wonder - able to hold the dark for myself and the dark of others. Now, now is now, and it’s challenging going. The road is not seen - is not lit. But I walk on boldly, emboldened by love, by the fire in my soul to become more of myself. Along this path, teachers, healers, lovers and beasts. The Chiron in me is reflected by this centaur in others. I can’t but smile at how fraught and lovely this all is. On the one hand to feel my imminent demise - my utter annihilation - on the other hand - the stars holding me - the earth holding me - in a bigger picture that makes my small tumult feel ok. Feel like yes, I can do this. And all the while I make fire, tea, coffee and smell the gypsophila wafting in the early morning breeze - I swim naked in a dirty sea - and I wait the crossing of a great divide towards my love, my other homeland, waiting to arrive.