Do Go Gently Into That Good Night
The lion rages and roars against the dying of the light. Creeping out of its den, luring la luna by the name of Lilith. Meet Lilith, the mother who always stays at a distance, yet hovers above and graces the Martian warrior during this fierce eclipse, drawing him back into bounds where he belongs, within the rings of the all-inclusive flame.
The opportunity cost of Mars’s weaponry and self-protection is his generosity, for he comes to know that all he seeks requires no less sacrifice than himself. Lilith cannot be hurt even by the strongest and brightest of his flames, for the Earth has already suffered all the hertz and offers an umbrella so that she will not get burnt.
The Sun wants to be close to the Earth and its Moon, but Lilith pleads that desire requires distance. Aquarius is the only one with the strength of heart to detach from and rise above Leo’s potential danger, the only one who cannot be wounded by the lion’s pride.
The lion may be scared to see what it’s really made of, with its golden armor reflecting off the surface of everything it meets, but Lilith will reflect only the blood that keeps the mystery of life alive, that very pulsating reminder of aliveness itself. I wonder, what color will the blood turn when it’s exposed to the daylight? When our earthly body no longer eclipses our view of it? Might it be the color of our very skin? The silver follicles sprouting from our crown?
The light will be recovered once we get out of its way, and then we shall be met by the One who deserves all the credit in the world, even with its armor. The armor is simply amor. Love. The temple is protected, and thank goddess for that. Coagulation is a blessing, or else we might bleed to death on Lilith’s deathbed.
When the Earth’s shadow is blocking our view of the light, Leo may convince itself that it has been exiled from the water-bearing pride. Aquarius can tolerate the in- and out-group hierarchies of the mind, the one that asks for acceptance and re-acceptance time and time again. For the Aquarian Lilith and Mars are swollen with love, that bloody elixir of grace. Now, now, did the Sun give the Earth permission to move out of its way, or did we earthlings give our Sun permission to be seen again?
During this lunar eclipse, however much the Moon refrains, Mars will still choose to reflect Sun’s light, curating the lion’s den into a lavish, lava-filled bloodbath of purification while the lion takes its share of timeout on the stellar savanna. When it re-emerges from its chambers, its heart may be that of a martian, appearing to live in a stranger’s territory, in a newly developed community center. Upon this realization, Mars will be charged with grooming the lion’s mane, but only for an ephemeral moment in space, while the lunatic takes her paid mental health leave.
During this time, the Sun might look to Mars for grace and acceptance. This is the first time in awhile that Mars might not be reactive; he may choose not to respond to his Sun’s needs. Times are quiet for Mars right now, as he retrogrades slow and still, yet becomes stronger and brighter as Earth passes him by in the night sky.
Mars resists the Sun’s temptation to project warmth onto the graceful warrior; he is reluctant to rely on that which is out of bounds for insulation and protection. Mars is bleeding truth at this time, taking a deep dive below the ecliptic where he can be a coagulant for none other than himself.
In a universe where we look to the Sun for warmth, doesn’t one wonder how the Sun keeps itself warm?