Sagittarius, thou feral arrow-slinger, thou tavern-born prophet, thou runaway sermon in boots-why art thou ever in motion, as though the Devil himself were thy landlord and rent were due at dawn? Thou canst not sit still, not for prayer, nor supper, nor a single blessed conversation, ere thy spirit crieth, “I must away!” and off thou goest…chasing Freedom like a drunkard chaseth a rolling apple down a hill. Thou proclaimest thyself a lover of Truth, and indeed thou speakest it-loudly, publicly, and with the tenderness of a brick through a chapel window. “I but speak mine mind,” saith thou, after launching a flaming arrow straight into somebody’s self-esteem. Then thou blinkest, innocent as a lamb, and wonderest why the village hath taken up pitchforks. Aye, Sagittarius thy honesty is not a virtue, ‘tis a weapon thou swingest about like a fool with a sword too long for his own hallway. And O, thy grand schemes! Thou art ever “starting a new chapter,” though thy life be naught but loose parchment, half-scribbled oaths, and three quests begun in the same week. Thou wilt swear upon Jupiter’s ample belly that thou shalt “be consistent,” then vanish like a witch at cockcrow the moment routine draweth near. Commitments to thee are like corsets: thou puttest them on for show, then wrigglest free and declarest thyself oppressed. Yet, curse it…I cannot wholly despise thee. For though thou art chaos with a compass, thou art also the spark that setteth the stagnant world alight. Thou makest the timid laugh, the weary remember they have legs, and the overly serious clutch their pearls so hard they near summon a demon. So roam, thou wild thing-only do us this mercy: if thou must speak “Truth,” at least wrap it in a ribbon, and cease flinging it at folk like hot stew.

May 2, 2026 -Sun in Taurus, Moon in Scorpio (Earth + Water) Scorpio Full Moon medicine doesn’t vanish at sunrise. It stays. It seeps. It works the seams. The aftermath is where Scorpio does its most honest alchemy…when your armor is loosened, when the truth that rose up last night is still warm against your ribs. Today you may feel tender. Or razor-clear. Or beautifully emptied out…hollowed in a way that feels like relief. Let it all be valid. Let it all be sacred. This is integration, not interruption. Before you touch your phone, meet your body first. Lie flat on your back, or sit upright on the floor like you’re taking your seat at the altar of your own becoming. Place both hands on your belly. Take ten slow breaths, and count each exhale like a spell. With every breath out, release one thing from your body on purpose: the clench in your jaw, the gripping in your chest, the leftover static from last night’s emotional weather. Let your body be the vessel that completes the ritual that your mind doesn’t need to narrate it yet. When you finish, stay still for two full minutes. No translating. No meaning-making. Just listening. Notice what your body is saying in sensation, in temperature, in pulse. Let it speak in its native language. The real revelation rarely arrives at the peak. It arrives after, when the noise settles and the soul has room to show you what it actually meant. Your body processed the Full Moon whether you guided it or not. Today, let it finish. No interference. No rushing. Give it the space it earned.

May this Venus Day wrap you in sweetness and self-worth, Precious Soul-like silk over scar tissue, like rose petals on a threshold. On this Beltane, I bless your pleasure as sacred, your desire as honest, and your beauty as something you never have to earn. May love find you in the places you’ve been afraid to receive it: in your body, in your home, in your bank account, in your laughter. May what you create be nourished, and may what nourishes you be protected. With the Scorpio Moon stirring the deep waters, I bless your courage to tell the truth underneath the truth. May anything hidden that’s been draining you rise gently to the surface-without shame, without punishment, only clarity. May cords that were tied in fear loosen in compassion. May your intuition be clean and sharp, and may your boundaries feel like devotion, not defense. And in Taurus season, I bless your roots: steady money, steady energy, steady love. May your life become more livable, not just more “meaningful.” May your rituals be simple and powerful…food that grounds you, rest that restores you, touch that brings you back to yourself. This Beltane, may your flame be joyful, not frantic. May you bloom without burning.

In shadows deep, where whispers dwell, I stand my ground, I break the spell. Under Scorpio’s watchful eye, I let the weaker versions die. From rock bottom, I rise and climb, With every heartbeat, I reclaim my time. I crawl from grief’s unholy sea, And name what tried to bury me. Face to face with fears that loom, Victory's light dispels the gloom. Not gentle…no, it sears and bites, A ruthless dawn that ends my nights. In the mirror, my truth reflects, A warrior's spirit, undeterred and vexed. I meet my gaze, I don’t look away, I watch the mask of “fine” decay. I'll crawl through the depths, embrace the fight, With scars like crowns, I claim my light. My wounds are doors, my blood is ink, I rise the moment others sink. Self-doubt may whisper, but I will not yield, For in this battle, my heart is my shield. Let doubt be smoke, let courage stay, I cut the cord and walk away. Know the road is less traveled by, Where shadows hide but also cry. I go where ghosts and secrets live, To take back power I wouldn’t give. I'll find the strength that lies within, With every struggle, I learn to win. I turn my pain to sharpened art, A blade of truth, a beating heart. So rise, oh soul, from ashes and pain, Dance in the fire, let go of the rain. Full Moon witness, hear my vow What haunts me ends. Not later. Now. For Beltane calls with a vibrant song, In the mind of a warrior, I find where I belong. I burn what binds, I bless what’s born I am the witch. I am the storm. #beltane #reflectandrelease #shadowwork #pagan #witch #beltaneblessings #divineguidance #mystic #sabbat #gratitude

I sit on the cusp of a new season, Scorpio Moon pressed to my ribs, Beltane wind in the branches, my back against the old tree that has seen me survive myself. I am not dwelling. I am not drowning. I am thanking. For the lessons that arrived like weather. For the seeds I planted with shaking hands. For the way grief can be a garden if you stay long enough to learn its language. I call in abundance- mind, body, spirit… not as a wish, but as a decision. Where there is a will, there is a way. So I choose the way: action, mindset, healing, the holy work of facing the pain until it becomes something beautiful. Tonight I am my own surgeon… scalpel of truth, hands steady with trembling… cutting out the rot of old stories, naming the things out loud, refusing the comfort of my own lies. And yes- it hurts. It is hard. It is human. The veil is thin. Under Jupiter, Mars, Venus, the stars speak in a language my bones remember. I glance up… and there I am, looking back. A ghost of me. A caged version. A self I left locked away when survival became a religion. I jump. I blink. I breathe- and she dissipates like smoke, but something in my soul opens like a door. Maybe a timeline shift. Maybe just the moment I return to my magical core… the girl who found peace in Mother Earth and the endless dark of the sky. My candle fights the wind. I cup the flame… not to control it, but to protect it. To give it a safe place to burn as I call in safety of my own. The Moon moves through me in waves, crashing, cleansing, washing the burn of my inner turmoil into saltwater wisdom. Time to release. Time to be grateful. Time to close out a season and begin again. Release. Renew. Reset. I am grateful to the Goddess. I am grateful for the lessons and the blessings. Blessed Beltane. Blessed Full Moon. Blessed becoming.