Pisces is one of our most nebulous of signs. Think of deep, deep water, dark and cold yet teeming with life which we can barely even imagine. That is Pisces. Hard to grasp – like a fish – and often hidden, even to themselves, yet so full of potential.
Pisces is the last Sign of the Zodiac, it is a completion, but not in the sense of coming back to where you started, rather, you have absorbed all the lessons of the first 11 signs and this is the culmination, where we go into the dark cave to let it germinate, ferment, to ponder and wonder, and to prepare for the birth into a whole new cycle. Like Brenda Heim and Doug Hays’ bronze Enso sculpture, the end doesn’t meet at the beginning because in fact it is about launching into the new spiral, the new spin of the Wheel.
This sign is also dichotomous, because it rules the fine line between saints and sinners, angels and demons, criminals and police, the leap of faith . . . or the deep darkness of despair. When one can truly manifest all that Pisces is, you will perceive a human being of deepest compassion and kindness, one who can even help people die because they understand that Death too is but a fine line between here and there, now and then.
Last night I saw the angels knocking at the tavern door,
Modelling the clay of man, becoming drunk with the original wine.
The inhabitants of the sacred enclosure and of the divine malakut
Drank from one cup with me, the pilgrim.
From: “The Green Sea of Heaven” by Diwan of Hafiz