History of astrology

Astrological beliefs in correspondences between celestial observations and terrestrial events have influenced various aspects of human history, including world-views, language and many elements of social culture.

Among Indo-European peoples, astrology has been dated to the 3rd millennium BC, with roots in calendrical systems used to predict seasonal shifts and to interpret celestial cycles as signs of divine communications.Until the 17th century, astrology was considered a scholarly tradition, and it helped drive the development of astronomy. It was commonly accepted in political and cultural circles, and some of its concepts were used in other traditional studies, such as alchemy, meteorology and medicine.By the end of the 17th century, emerging scientific concepts in astronomy, such as heliocentrism, were irrevocably undermining the theoretical basis of astrology, which subsequently lost its academic standing.

In the 20th century astrology gained broader consumer popularity through the influence of regular mass media products, such as newspaper horoscopes.


On a Pile of Leaves on a Mountain in April

Asleep on a pile of April leaves
A mind that I used to claim as mine
Veers into a territory
Alien and remote
Without any seeming plan
Or design
It veers from days to lost days
Nights to lost nights
It scours calendric
The slights of the world
The many victories
And sublime joys
The lovers and their loves
Their spites
The within that withers
Marked on the calendar in blue and yellow
And blood red
And Orange.
Why orange?

A tickle disturbs my minds
Chronologic investigations
A brave ant
Exploring me
So small and frail
Could have just as easily been a grain of
The mountain wind
Conducting its own detections
I let it be
I let me be
I close my eyes.

The orange returns
Dancing in dark figures
Inside my lids
Screened from the sun
Vessels of blood
Rushing past
Mighty lighted dances.

My lost mind returns
To its wanton veering ways,
Its pursuit of light and dark,
Days ,
And the many nights
Lost to lovers and lust
Or was it the lust of lovers
Magic and dust?
It confuses my currency

Where am I?
What is this place?
Why am I here? Who brought me?
I know that door.
It’s familiar, the woody grains
The brass knobs
I recognize it
Yet it’s so alien
Like me in a mirror reflecting a person
Who is not me
May be its deep within
This door, this person
May be I’ve left him behind
Lost forever,
For the better?

It’s an old door
From my old life
And I’m locked outside
With all my old lies
And my old strife’s
Crowning head
I was sure I had the key
Should I break in?

There is a voice On the other side
I stretch to hear,
It’s me
Strained and hoarse
Met with softer waves still
Of an past familiar nature
Veering me towards reason
Through tears
Rowing me towards the island
I seem to have willingly passed by
Past the last harbour
Into the unending sea.

The old devil sings:
“It used to be my life.”
“It used to be my life.”
“It used to be my life.”
“It used to be my life.”
How apt, I wonder.
How could I have forgotten the tapes
That carried me on its wheeling back
Magnetic and spinning wild.

I stand outside the door
Marked “do not disturb”
On my strange dusty calendar
Do not disturb who? When?
Do I go in?
Do I break in?
Meet me?
Is it me?
Me then? Me now?
What of she?
What would I say to her
On the other side of the door?
An apology?
A guilty embrace?
Would she recognize me?
For who I am?
This strange man behind an old door
Her new door?
Would she even see me?
Would she even care?

On a pile of leaves
Bleeding black burning ground
My twin eyes flicker open
To the sun slipping past
The leaves floating above
To the day that is my today.