
Betwixt because It is the Zodiac that represents the stars in our inner sky.
In each part of us… extended to its links.
But then the zodiac constellation themselves, holding as if in tether in its 30 steps to a degree.
That thin line we take to cut a path through the sky.
The tantra says our field to vision sees the five elements while the inner temple above the eyebrows spans through all 12.
And in that the Dvadasanta of cognition in the keep of the higher self witnesses time unfold.
A sense of certainty to the degree of the Zodiac, and we know which part of sky is our purview, to that effect is the claim of astrology.
The variables constant to the ancients as evident to our own awareness.
And yet these stars, even like the closest in kin and brethren, still unfamiliar, strangers to the soul even in its own reflection of them.
So which indeed are the stars of significance, with as many viewpoints as the steps dancing to decrees and degree. Perchance some instruction compensate what intuited grace is lacking. And knowledge as stardust begins its journey.
Conditioning in condiments until unconditioned to its own sacrament.
The subjective attest arrives, as if the stars themselves no longer in patient wait to be weighed.
Triumphant revelations of old make every feel like their own personal portent in karmic inheritance, validated to the redemption of cognitive feeling, and somewhat healing.
The eyes themselves reflect the stars, the delight to daylight, sunshine to nocturnal invite. The influence of the celestial bodies makes each still work their merchant mind to planet.
Grounded and closer to home in earthly abode, the influence of the planets instils until the querent has groomed to distil.
Each answer to questioning consciousness defining the unmanifest envision.
The stars pair up, triangulate their time to intervention. Under one star, the stargazers will find their own, and cast their winded journey.
That one star is the same for the entire galaxy, its true north. Polaris, to some. Reverent names to others that know him. Under that north star, each that will know themselves as the answer. In the act of definition.
The question wavers. Not enough waivers to quieten the defiance, the personality’s conditioned assert. The when in inert. The ability to answer, wisdom brings, each will know when.
But like the feminine grace of maturing borrowed knowledge, just as in redeeming and bequeathing the questioning mind.
And as just as emotions to the heart, and the smile’s impart to align.
A pause sublime, like a parans in angular equation, a star ruminates when to mark its time. Neither Utopian nor Bohemian, this was however meant to be of Bohenian stars in elucidation of their twine.
Ayi Ayi Ayi, a little longer, the cusp of innate clarity prods to fetch a little more information before launching its own into perspective entwine.
Watch this space, exclaimed a shooting star. The fixed star, unmoved.
Betwixt a constellation and its elation to mention.
A coat of quotes and passing poetry
"PraisingOnly one who has raised the lyre Praising, that’s it! As one ordered to praisehe emerged like the ore from the silent stone.
His heart, O the transient wine-press, among mankind, of an inexhaustible wine.
When the divine mode grips him, the voice in his mouth never fails.
All becomes vineyard, all becomes grape, grown riper in his feeling’s south.
Neither the must in the tombs of the kings nor from the gods that a shadow falls, detracts at all from his praising.
He’s a messenger, who always remains, still holding far through the doors of the dead a dish with fruit they can praise.
Only one who has raised the lyre already, among the shades, may sense how to return the unending praise.
Only one who, with the dead, ate of the poppy, theirs, from them, will not lose the slightest note ever again.
Wish even the image in the pond that blurs for us, often: know the reflection.
Only within the double sphere will the voices become kind, and eternal.
"Praising | Rainer Marie Rilke