Scorpio, the Deep Dark Compost, the Hungry Swamp and the Eternal Mystery
cosmic scorpions, earth shape shifters, soul alchemists
Humanity froze my blood.
There may be some blood-bergs living inside me now in the shape of countries...
What is written is biting. What is unspoken is screaming. What is human spoken is freezing blood. What is shed is dripping from our fingertips. And they should.
I penned the sign of rot, death, regeneration and transformation because I made a promise last spring to write through each zodiacal sign and this chapter is a part of that writing series called Enchanted Zodiac. If I had not made that promise and left my field un-promised, I may have not written this at the moment. And if it was possible, I would have drawn a worm next to each sentence I write1 to compost the written word all the time.
I have promised a zodiac. I am learning my lessons from my promise and wishing that to every creator, to every creation, and to every creature…
Here is Scorpio the scorpion. Mind your eyes, hearts and minds, there are scorpions roaming amongst sentences. They may sting and poison you with deep emotions.
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Scorpio season is where and when all the things that came before it surrender themselves to death, rot and compost.
Aries, the Horned Spring Sparker, Taurus, the Great Living Rock, Gemini, the Buzzing Winged Trickster, Cancer, the Nurturing Imaginative Water, Leo, the Pawed Clawed Maned Roaring Star, Virgo, the Mythic Poetic Creative Harvest, Libra, The Universal Justice and the Cosmic Joke and all the ones that came before and we are yet to storytell…3
are all rotting in the Deep Dark Compost, sinking in the Hungry Swamp and mystifying in the Eternal Mystery.
This is where everything we have lived turns into a compost and becomes the soil for what is yet to come… This is also simultaneously where no promises of soil, of a fertile ground, of regeneration, of rebirth are made. There may be rebirth beyond this death, there may be life as we know or another kind, there may be something we can never imagine…
Mystery mystifies.
If you wish to read and rot along, and you cannot afford one month’s fee, do write to me, I will send it to you.