The Sun trines Uranus exact while Chiron trines Venus and squares the Sun. This energy can be used to suss out which things you chase are truly helpful to your goals and which are related to past hurts better left behind.-Satori looks at the Sky
To catch up on the story click here where it starts...
Raven was not a bird long on words. Once his glasses slipped onto the slight indentations above his long curved beak he pulled the kihei securely across my breasts. "The borders," he said. "They need you," as he finished securing the mulberry bark shawl like a cape with a pin. The window was ajar just enough to allow his silver finger-tips to graze the gossamer curtains as he left me here. Between.
The stones on the strange bed were smooth. A mix of pebbles and fist-sized stones like the beach rocks from my favorite walking beach looking west. Pushing myself off the edge of bed which rose perfectly my boots found the floor solidly.I looked around for my paisley shawl and red hibiscus-pinned hat. Not here. Instead, I held the mulberry bark cape, feeling the soft texture of finely worked wauke. A master's work. The night was deep, but the stars and planets were in their places; the moon already set. Once at the window's ledge the breeze fussed with the sheer cotton. "Oh come in then," fragments of dust mingled with the stitches in the curtain hem. "I see you are here and have things to tell me. So out with it." I was using my most forthright voice with the Stardust, it's the language they really find most irresistible.
A simple wooden chair with wonderfully carved arms was placed facing out the single window. A well-sat upon cushion made of cobalt blue velvet once plush was still comfortably welcoming. I took the seat and waited as the Stardust reassembled itself into the shape of a pie. A smile, then a hearty laugh break from me, "And what sort of pie have you now?" The answer: A... pie... from...the... sky. "Of course. Granny Smith would be my wish, " It was necessary to listen with undiluted attention since the language of stars pales to the clatter of most Earth sounds. Soon the smell of hot apple pie filled my nostrils. Always with the cinnamon and crystals of sugar, and buttery pastry. I listened to the messenger.
A border witch like myself depends upon longevity for power; early on the journey is often a jumble and tumble affair. We don't come to fit our names until Saturn has returned twice to our birth markers. So, you see being no-longer-young has it's upsides. Navigating and translating my work as border witch this time, I sensed the message had something to do with the Faceless Woman. She was in one of the rooms. More than the heart of wood from sweet Josephine, the Faceless Woman needed some of that pie from the sky.
"Just how does a faceless woman eat pie?" I said to myself hoping to get some clue from the Stardust. As if the question unplugged the lights from those stars, in a blink they were gone and in their place I heard, "We are stars. You're the witch."
So what do you think? How does a faceless woman eat pie? If you're game, leave your solution in the comments and join me in The Safety Pin Cafe.
Aloha, Mokihana 7/14/2016]
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Yvonne Mokihana Calizar, 2012