Long before the birth of time, a clear crystal ball carrying the seed of the Rose, was propelling/spinning through cosmos. Dropping the seed, wherever it needed to be, the Rose was born into this life in a desert. There, her stem sprouted from a source stemming from deep underground. Traveling from deep within the Earth, the Rose had to traverse several layers of mud and consciousness in order to break through the soil. And still to this day, she is traveling through these layers and shedding them; one by one, until there is nothing left, but a naked rosebud. She comes from a long line of fortune tellers; the truth runs in her veins and while being dragged through the air by (what seems to be) an invisible hand, she twirls and swirls across the meadow, whispering – sometimes yelling; crying, sighing, truth into the ears of others. The wind (or the invisible hand) is dragging her towards a dark green, dense forest in the middle of the meadow; a forest that, no matter how close you get, somehow always seems distant; as if it’s daring you to enter. The Rose is intrigued by and drawn to this forest; perhaps because it contains and represents everything her place of birth did not. Being under the influence of Pluto, she is able to sense and recognize the value of destruction; as well as she, herself, takes part in a constant cycle of destruction and reconstruction that correlates with her fragile nature/figure. Dissolving and reappearing. Composting, decomposing and merging with the Earth; The Rose will transform and sprout anew. Constantly nurturing and in need of being nurtured, herself, the Rose will unfold and expand when ripe and ready for sunlight to enter; But she grows just as well by the Moon. Her rhythm is slow-paced and steady; her movement is that of unfolding & enfolding, in a continuous stream. A true believer in Shiva she also honors Vishnu in her stable periods with pristine presence and deep-growing roots.
She is now and will continue beyond time.
Right now her color is that of blood.