The New Moon at 9 degrees of Mutable Water on the 28th of February 2025 at 00:44 am GMT conjoined Skat (delta Aquarius) and opposed Zosma
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The journal rested in her hands, its pages worn at the edges, each word etched in ink with quiet precision. Tracing her fingers over the letters so they could infuse into her being, she slowly read the intimacy poured from his heart onto the pages. The teangacha naofa moved through her with such familiarity, it was as if she was in the presence of someone she had known all her life.
Gasping, a truth stirred within her without needing to be spoken. It was not memory that was anchoring her. Instead it was something more like an understanding that bloomed from deep within her, like how the light rises at dawn from the depths of the dark.
“In every life, you have found me, and I have always known you, across every span of time, in every form of being. We are not apart, for we were never separate.”
She closed the journal, the soft press of her fingers marking its end, but the words did not fade. Rather, they held in place by the aura that reverberated around her, akin to the ripples of water over stone.
Stepping outside, the cool air filled her senses. The cerulean blue stretched endlessly above merging at the horizon with the oceanic blue. The Pegasusian white clouds tumbled and dissolved mirroring the ebb and flow of marine horses, her eyes hypnotised by the scrimpliní dancing on both waves. Neither waters rushed, nor yearned. They simply moved with a quiet confidence, an eternal flow that had neither beginning nor end.
Shaping themselves in their own time, the waves touched everything, becoming everything. They were not separate from the sea, they were it. And just as the waves never sought a shore to return to, Croía too understood that what had been shared could not be lost. The exchange, though liminal, was enduring, existing in a timeless rhythm, something beyond the edges of the world, outside the constraints of time.
Closing her eyes and felt the quiet droning of it all, a pulse that lived within her chest, rising and falling, constant and unchanging. Deep within she felt their connection, remembering his memory, his presence, his tone. Neither waiting nor expecting, once felt, it was part of the very fabric of her being, woven seamlessly into the world around her, as much a part of the ocean that touches the air that touched her skin.
As she opened her eyes again, the water still moved, still folded into itself, and the sky above still stretched endless and wide. She felt them both in her, as much a part of her as the earth beneath her feet. The connection, she knew, was not something that had to be found again. It had always been there, both in the seen and the unseen.
Turning from the ocean, the cadence remaining with her, the pulse was with her, always, whether she could see it or not, an unbroken presence that was as real as the very air she breathed. It didn’t need to be named. It didn’t need to be understood in any other way than as it simply was, a truth that had no edges, no beginning, no end.
*****
You are part of the great rhythm that moves through all things, inseparable from the pulse that stirs life into motion. Whatever you bring into this current – your thoughts, your desires, your love – does not remain contained within you but ripples outward, touching everything it meets. A thought alone may be weightless, but when carried by feeling, it gathers force. Emotion is the tide that lifts dreams into form, the unseen wave behind creation. Inspiration may stir an idea, but without the current of passion, it is nothing but a shadow of what it could become.
Album cover by Mr. Gnome
This world is shaped by water. It is the source, the cradle from which all life first emerged. It has sculpted valleys, carved pathways through rock, given breath to forests and fields. It moves through the air, condensing into clouds, falling back to the earth to nourish and renew. Its flow is unbroken, a force that moves without resistance, shifting between forms, yet never losing itself. It is vast, endless, never still. A river does not ask where it must go; it simply follows the pull that guides it, yielding yet unstoppable.
Water is feeling in its purest form. It does not calculate; it knows. It does not hesitate; it moves. It shapes itself to whatever holds it, yet it is never contained for long. It surges and recedes, rises and falls, always in motion, always returning. It gives life, yet it can just as easily take it away. It is the tears that cleanse, the flood that drowns, the rain that revives. It is the mirror of the soul, revealing all that stirs beneath the surface.
But movement alone is not enough. Water must have a path to follow, a way to reach beyond itself. This is mutability – the unseen threshold between one state and another, the dissolution of separation, the quiet surrender of form to something greater. It is the meeting point of what is and what is becoming, the space where transformation stirs. It is the heart between past and future, the silent merging of one into another, the shifting of self through time, through love, through all the hands that have ever held you.
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Mutability is not stillness, nor is it chaos. It is the pulse of exchange, the constant weaving of inner and outer, self and other. It is the dissolving of edges, the quiet erosion of walls built to keep the world at bay. It is the space where you are no longer only yourself but all you have ever touched. It is the current that flows between souls, the pull that tethers you to those you have opened to, the knowing that no feeling is yours alone.
Water without mutability would be a tide that never meets the shore, a river that never carves the land. Mutability without water would be change without depth, motion without meaning. Together, they are the rhythm of connection, the movement of the heart that stretches beyond time, beyond space, beyond the limits of what can be seen. Mutable Water is the heartbeat felt through the unseen, the tide that carries emotion between bodies, between moments, between lifetimes. It is the quiet knowing that love, once given, is never lost.
To move like water is to surrender to feeling, to let emotion shape and be shaped, to trust the unseen pull that guides all things toward where they are meant to be. To exist within mutability is to understand that no moment, no self, no love is ever truly separate, only ever changing form. And to embody both is to live in the flow of all that is, to be part of the current that moves through every life it touches, shaping, shifting, becoming.
As the lights conjoin in the first hour of the Irish morn in the Piscean skies, you are reminded of the timelessness of all emotionally charged connections that you have forged, here, now and everywhere and time. You are within them, as much as they live within you, always and forever. They are part of your fabric, as you are in them. You can feel their presence. They can feel yours. You are inseparable, whether you connect physically or otherwise. All relationships which shaped your heart, whether through love or pain, connects you to they, in the same way that a chord connects the fish that swim in the celestial and terrestrial oceans. As above, so below. As within, so without.
This time of inception is that of a remembrance of all those in your life and lives and a reflection on all those emotional exchanges that have shaped who you are. Pisces is the word that describes the invisible heart-chord that binds you to all those with whom you have shared some form of intimacy. Today is a day to utter this manta in homage to those who have shaped your heart.
In your light, I learn the shape of love.
In your beauty, I find the pulse of creation.
You move within me where no eyes can see,
but sometimes I catch the rhythm of your presence,
and in that moment, this art is born.
Beannachtaí
A
Completed on the 16th of February 2025 at 13:40 GMT
