Hail, great Ketu, the Sun overwhelming, hiding him in the coils of your tail! You squirm around, in sky always roaming, raining down trouble: illness to the hale, defeat for the mighty, doom for the famed, and obstacles for any who would start. In ordered fashion, you process untamed, overturning both king and apple cart — thus we call you the Maker of Endings, Trouble's Distributor, and Gate of Woe. We delay our plans, leave off intending, and with apophatic reverence we show attention must be paid, with fear and awe, when the Light bows down to Darkness's law. Now in Scorpio you loiter and sneak, sweeping the Sun from the noonday sky, promising doom: the aqueduct will leak, the pipe will clog, the arrow will not fly. Where gates or valves can be opened, or tears be shed, or agony or woe poured out, or real challenge forged from unspoken fears, you shall release it with defiant shout— your thagomizer swinging where it will! Only recall how the great make the small bear any grief they can make flow down hill, block any sorrow with luxury's wall. Swing the dragon-tail with more precision, squash the mighty for their cruel decision.
I usually write full odes, 30 lines or so in three ten-line stanzas for planetary events, but doing so for Ketu… I’m not sure. This one is more along the lines of one sonnet-verse for Ketu, and a second verse that can be changed in and out depending on which sign it’s in. Let me know if you’d like to see a full thirty lines for the South and North Nodes, regardless of sign.
I designed the eclipse glyph, using the typeface Physis regular designed by Hugh Tran.
