What are you?

Today we enter Taurus—
the sec­ond cham­ber of the astro­log­i­cal year.

Some­where in your chart it is always waiting,
and at this turn­ing of the seasons
it asks you to listen
for the qui­et mes­sages held in Earth.

For thir­ty days Aries has lit your way—
a forge of presence,
a flame that teach­es you to meet each moment
as though it were the only altar there is.

In that fire, life asks its first question—
sim­ple, fierce, and endless:

Who are you?

But Tau­rus draws you deeper—
from the spark to the substance,
from the name to the nature.

Now life asks not who you are,
but—

What are you?

What is the “what” of you—
the weave of strengths and sorrows,
gifts and hungers,
pow­ers, pat­terns, possibilities—
the mak­ing of the being called you?

Sit with that question
even for a breath
and you will feel its depth.

For you are not a thing—
not an object among objects.

You are a liv­ing field,
a con­stel­la­tion of bod­ies and energies,
a hier­ar­chy of Spirit-Matter
shim­mer­ing into form.

You are a dew­drop of the Divine
risen from the One—
bright with the whole sky.

From the cen­ter that is everywhere,
whose cir­cum­fer­ence is nowhere,
you bring forth the vehi­cles of being—
forms with­in forms—
as you descend into the worlds of experience.

From Spirit’s high­est field you fall like light—
into mind, into meaning;
from mind into feeling;
from feel­ing into breath and blood;
until, at last,
you wear the dense bless­ing of a body
and call it “me.”

And know this:
each body is itself a world,
each world a choir of lives.

You are not an island-self.
You are a host of hosts—
a small uni­verse of Spirit–Life–Consciousness
breath­ing with­in the greater universe.

In Tau­rus, you cross a threshold—
from inward “I am”
to out­ward “I am this.”

You learn your­self through form:
through strength and skill,
through the slow wis­dom of the senses—
shape and color,
sound and scent,
the sweet grav­i­ty of Earth.

Here you remem­ber the won­der of being alive—
and the love of Life itself,
of which you are a pre­cious part.

The ques­tion remains:
what is the val­ue that is you?

Through youth and elderhood
your pow­ers wax and wane—
the bright strength of ear­ly years
yield­ing, in time,
to the gifts of wis­dom and judgment.

Some days you feel lumi­nous and sure.
Some days you can­not find your worth.

So ask, beneath all measures:
what is the foun­tain-source of value—
the root beneath your ris­ing and falling?

As it was in the beginning,
so it will be in the end.

You are a jew­el of Spirit,
a spark of the Divine.

And there is no mea­sure for what you are—
because the “what” of you
is the one liv­ing pow­er behind Creation:

Divine Uncon­di­tion­al Love.

And so is everything.
All of life.
All of Creation.

All of it is precious.
All of it is here
to be loved.

You are here because of Love.

And you are here—simply—
to be that Love
for one another,
for this beau­ti­ful Earth,
and for the stars above you.

Remem­ber what you are.

Love one another.