Kuf - Pisces - The Moon
At night, under the light or the darkness of the moon, the path looks different. Boundaries blur. Familiar landmarks vanish. The known becomes fantastical, even frightening. During such times of uncertainty, we are asked not to see clearly, but to trust.
This card marks the hidden and the inner. The Hebrew letter ק (Kuf) is linked to this threshold. Kuf is unique among the Hebrew letters in that it descends below the baseline, as if reaching into the unknown or even the profane. Kabbalists teach that holiness (kodesh, קודש) must sometimes descend into darkness to raise lost sparks. Pisces, the sign associated with this card, is linked to the deep unconscious, the collective dreamworld, and the process of spiritual surrender. The Moon card signals spiritual vulnerability, intuitive knowing, and the dissolving of ego-bound perception. The netiv (path) of this card stretches from Chesed (Mercy) to Binah (Understanding), a journey from the open-hearted expansiveness of divine kindness to the deep insight of sacred discernment. It is a path that tempers empathy with clarity, and invites us to navigate shadow with compassion. According to Sefer Yetzirah, the quality assigned to this path is s’chok, laughter, a word that can express joy, disbelief, or fear. Laughter can liberate or obscure; it can open the heart or shield it. Here, it becomes a paradoxical key: the echo of something both light and unfathomably deep.
During a solitary chapter of my spiritual life in Eilat, I found myself called to honor the divine Feminine. The Sefer Yetzirah speaks of “Mothers” before any mention of “Fathers,” and I sought the Shekhinah, and even Asherah, in her ancient, veiled forms. I imagined her as Yesod, the foundation of connection and flow. But I found her in One who waits in shadow, guiding silently.
The discipline of daily devotion to Her carried me through a time of loneliness, without a spiritual community. At the new moon, just before Rosh Chodesh, and again at the full, I marked time with private rituals of alignment. I invoked the One who walks in shadow, who speaks through dreams, who reveals what is hidden.
The following hymn emerged from that period. It is a call to the Veiled One, a song of devotion offered at the edge of the known world:
This card marks the hidden and the inner. The Hebrew letter ק (Kuf) is linked to this threshold. Kuf is unique among the Hebrew letters in that it descends below the baseline, as if reaching into the unknown or even the profane. Kabbalists teach that holiness (kodesh, קודש) must sometimes descend into darkness to raise lost sparks. Pisces, the sign associated with this card, is linked to the deep unconscious, the collective dreamworld, and the process of spiritual surrender. The Moon card signals spiritual vulnerability, intuitive knowing, and the dissolving of ego-bound perception. The netiv (path) of this card stretches from Chesed (Mercy) to Binah (Understanding), a journey from the open-hearted expansiveness of divine kindness to the deep insight of sacred discernment. It is a path that tempers empathy with clarity, and invites us to navigate shadow with compassion. According to Sefer Yetzirah, the quality assigned to this path is s’chok, laughter, a word that can express joy, disbelief, or fear. Laughter can liberate or obscure; it can open the heart or shield it. Here, it becomes a paradoxical key: the echo of something both light and unfathomably deep.
During a solitary chapter of my spiritual life in Eilat, I found myself called to honor the divine Feminine. The Sefer Yetzirah speaks of “Mothers” before any mention of “Fathers,” and I sought the Shekhinah, and even Asherah, in her ancient, veiled forms. I imagined her as Yesod, the foundation of connection and flow. But I found her in One who waits in shadow, guiding silently.
The discipline of daily devotion to Her carried me through a time of loneliness, without a spiritual community. At the new moon, just before Rosh Chodesh, and again at the full, I marked time with private rituals of alignment. I invoked the One who walks in shadow, who speaks through dreams, who reveals what is hidden.
The following hymn emerged from that period. It is a call to the Veiled One, a song of devotion offered at the edge of the known world:
Like the moon herself, Her voice waxes and wanes. She appears in strange garments, under foreign names, but her presence is unmistakable. She opened a path of laughter, surrender, and insight. Her path leads from mercy to wisdom, from the outer world to the hidden soul.Hyékati Zirinthía, guide me through veils untold,Unveil the world’s secrets in your sacred light.
Show me my path, time’s tapestries unfold.
Hyékati Vrímo, shake perception’s core,
Reveal my desires and the purpose to explore.
Hyékati Fósfore, kindle fires of art’s creation,
Ignite in me purpose and inspired dedication.
Hyékati Sotería, wisdom you bestow,
Take me beyond, bound'ries I’ll let go.
Hyékati Urízoda, knower of the unknown,
Teacher and friend, grant me wisdom to be sown.
Precious One, stand by me, embrace me tight,
The following are possible interpretations of this card:
Upright:
- Intuitive unfolding
- Openness to mystery and enchantment
- Heightened sensitivity and primal instinct
- A spiritual test of trust and surrender
- Doubt or disorientation
- Self-deception or disconnection from intuition
- Emotional overwhelm
- Fear of what lies ahead
- Illusions mistaken for truth
Don’t drown in others’ emotions or get lost in fantasy. Strength arises from patient discernment and restraint amid chaos.
A song to meditate with is "Port City" performed by Eyal Golan, a piece that evokes the search for something real amid illusions, longing, and the shifting darkness. Let its rhythm carry you through the shadows with warmth and wonder, like laughter echoing in the dark, reminding you that mystery may be beneficent and that some wandering may be pilgrimage:
Click here to go to the first chapter of Part One.
A song to meditate with is "Port City" performed by Eyal Golan, a piece that evokes the search for something real amid illusions, longing, and the shifting darkness. Let its rhythm carry you through the shadows with warmth and wonder, like laughter echoing in the dark, reminding you that mystery may be beneficent and that some wandering may be pilgrimage:
And I, in a port city,
A bottle in my hand again,
to hold the ache of absence.
Salt at its lip,
the wind moves over the water,
caressing the sea’s bare back.
No comfort in the view,
nor in the tavern and its music,
if You, Beloved, still hide Your face.
-Interpretive translation of עִיר נָמֵל
lyrics by Rotem Chen and Dvir Kahalani
music by Yehuda Galili,
performed by Eyal Golan
Click here to go to the first chapter of Part One.

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