The Sign of Aquarius — Astrology Musings

Photo by Maria Orlova on Pexels.com

Many assume Aquarius is a water sign, mainly because the name means literally ‘water’ (from the latin Aqua), and the glyph represents dual flowing waves of some medium.

A more elaborate symbol of the sign is a figure pouring water from a jar, the ‘water bearer’, or ‘water carrier’, further underlining the assumption that Aquarius is a water sign.

No Water In Aquarius

But Aquarius isn’t a water sign; the name and the glyph are kind of metaphorical, showing a way of working, a process, a methodology, rather than something definitive. Aquarius represents a free flowing process, an openness, perhaps something like the world wide web, where in theory at least, information en masse is available for all to assess and discern using their own wisdom.

And what does a water carrier do? It’s not so much the actual medium of water that is important. Anyone could get a drink of water if they so wish. But the water carrier symbolises pouring out for all, being of service to the many.

Hopes, Dreams & Wishes

Aquarius is the fixed air sign. The medium of air is to do with communication, mentality, sociability. But how fixed can air be? Perhaps one way of viewing it is concentration. A concentration of air is like a strong wind, or maybe a fresh breeze to blow away the cobwebs, in preparation for something new, fresher, better.

Aquarius is the second sign after the winter solstice, when the sun appears to stop and begin to move northward again. Capricorn begins the process, like some earthing or crystallisation, laying firm foundations, as befits the Saturn rulership of that sign.

The Great Teacher Saturn

So Aquarius is also ruled by Saturn (not Uranus, in my opinion), but it’s a different side of ‘the great teacher’. Saturn plans ahead, systematically with ideas, and with Aquarius this builds for the future — the hopes, dreams and wishes of mankind, upon the materialistic foundations of Capricorn, for the coming spring in the north, the fall in the south, as the sun moves relentlessly northward.

The water bearer’s energy is powerful at present and change is on its way. Not the violent, revolutionary change of Uranus, but the instigation of ‘plan a’ of the ages — the beginning of a ‘golden age’ which we are blessed to witness.

Copyright Francis 2021

For Brigid

Photo by Simon Berger on Pexels.com

Brigid, we parted one February,
an ending for us as the swelling of spring began.
Your name was not Brigid;
the Irvines were lowland Scots, after all,
but you resembled that Irish princess
with the auburn hair, the green eyes,
that cover of the paperback you had lent me
which had entranced me so.
What is it about chemistry?
Or is it music, the way cello and violin
complement one another?
Does the body reflect the soul,
or is flesh mere pretense to mask the true intention?
Things are clearer now —
weren’t we in love with love?
So much easier to bear than with each other,
where loss, pain and misery are set off,
the ticking time bomb of this duality.
And I didn’t say… but I saw you the other day,
older, wiser, a family of your own
but with the same look in your eyes,
so green.
Brigid, though decades now separate us,
I am glad of our anonymity,
the memory of what love might be.

Copyright Francis 2021

***Written for Earth Weal Weekly Challenge regarding Imbolc.

The Walk (for Earthweal challenge)

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

I must have strolled this ancient shore,
leaving no footprints in the sand,
seen the infant sun spill his light
over jagged horizons,
the glowing Moon ascend into sparse sky
to ride the assembly of stars,
a firmament at once remote
and intimate.
If you talk in eons — I see in seconds;
new life’s struggle to be born,
a fossil falling to the sand
from a cliff’s crumbling edifice.
For as I exist at the beginning
so do I persist until the end,
though I am not made of stars,
I merely follow the word
and the breath.

Copyright Francis 2021

***earthweal weekly challenge

Migrators (Poem for Earthweal)

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

By the hard side
of the shore,
abutments jutting out
into raging waves,
I paused,
an incessant gale buffeting
my puny frame.

Dark promontories
primed me through sea mist;
they caught my gaze,
my historic sense,
like the herring gulls circling,
riding the howling wind.

I sensed you there,
your sea-grey eyes
staring into nothing,
your soft sing-song voice
of the Borders,
ready to spoil me with sweets,
port and lemon clutched
in your wizened hand.

Somehow you were left
in this nebulous place,
our collective cries screaming
“mother! mother!” —
plaintive calls unheard
in an entangled realm of souls,
given over to the elements.

Copyright Francis 2021

Earthweal Weekly Challenge

Bee Folklore and Superstition: Telling the Bees — Under the influence! (Reblog)

There is a longstanding custom of telling the bees important events such as births, deaths and marriages that happen in the life of a beekeeper.

Bee Folklore and Superstition: Telling the Bees — Under the influence!

*** This is utterly fascinating, bees are amazing, miracles, like all of nature.