After months of escalation, threats, posturing, and shadow-moves, today, by the light of the Cancer Full Moon, the United States has begun bombing Venezuela.

Cancer Full Moons don’t launch long wars - they expose emotional fault lines. They pull fear, protection instincts, and unresolved tensions into the open. This is not a cold, strategic crossing of a Rubicon, but a pressure finally venting. What we’re watching isn’t the start of a grand campaign but the moment the simmer boils over.

Nicolas Maduro’s chart right now is heavy, compressed, and Plutonian. This is not a man spiralling, but a man digging in. Pluto supporting his Sun and Mercury shows strategic restraint, narrative control, and endurance under pressure. Maduro isn’t trying to win headlines - he’s trying to outlast the moment. That doesn’t make him benevolent - it makes him durable, and more so than Trump.

Venezuela as a nation is under immense stress, emotionally, economically, and socially. Neptune hitting the Moon tells us the people are exhausted, confused, and flooded with fear and rumour. Mars clashing with Pluto shows force being applied to maintain order. But crucially, the system holds. This is not a collapse chart - it’s a survival chart. The country bends, adapts, and absorbs, but does not fracture outright in this window.

And the message in the skies over the United States could not be clearer: America is not emotionally on board. Sun opposite Sun. Moon under Saturn pressure. Mars blocked by Saturn. This is a country acting without unity. Institutions function, but the public mood is tired, sceptical, and resistant. Compliance exists. Enthusiasm does not. That distinction matters, because wars fought without buy-in don’t age well.

The most important chart here is Donald Trump’s. Uranus is activating Mars, Jupiter is inflating confidence, and Saturn is not fully in charge yet. This is a leader acting from impatience, optics, and the need to look decisive now. It’s not a long-game chart. It’s a shock-and-display chart. Trump’s strength here is speed and audacity, but his weakness is containment. That’s why this looks dramatic, and why it doesn’t last.

This is not the beginning of endless war. It’s the end of plausible escalation without consequence.

This is not a story about Venezuela being on the brink of collapse.

It’s a story about a man running out of road.

When Trump’s chart is read across the full year, it’s clear he’s not in a consolidation cycle, but a containment and collapse cycle. Saturn pressure builds, Uranus destabilises his grip on events, and Pluto keeps pulling shadow material into the open. He’ll still try to act and posture and shock - Jupiter gives him volume - but volume is not authority. It’s noise without durability.

That’s why this moment looks so loud. These are not the moves of a leader confidently shaping the future. They’re the moves of someone trying to force outcomes before the window closes. Uranus keeps knocking him sideways, triggering impulsive action and sudden decisions. Saturn keeps saying no - through courts, institutions, allies, markets, and time itself. The more he pushes, the more resistance appears.

This is not power expanding. 

It’s power flaring.

By February, that flare hits its limits. As Saturn meets Neptune in Aries, illusion collides with enforcement. The system doesn’t overthrow Trump - it constrains him. Friction appears everywhere. Escalation becomes harder. Messaging stops landing. The improvisational chaos that once worked for him starts backfiring. He may still be present and loud, but he’ll no longer be unchecked.

By July, the charts are even clearer. His credibility drains. Confidence outpaces results. The United States itself enters a phase of hard limits and institutional reckoning. This is not a revolution or a dramatic fall. It’s something more mundane - and more American - than that: patience snapping, guardrails tightening, and authority being managed rather than indulged.

Seen this way, today’s strikes aren’t the opening salvo of a wider war. They’re the last gasp of leverage from a man who knows the system is about to close ranks. 

Today’s strikes are loud.

February’s response is structural.

July’s verdict is collective.

The Cancer Full Moon didn’t start this because it was planned. It surfaced it because it was already unstable. And from here on, the story stops being about bravado and starts being about what systems will tolerate.

Venezuela is not the centre of this cosmic story. 

Trump is. 

And this is what power looks like when it’s running out: loud, impulsive, and desperate to look decisive before the doors start closing.

This is not a moment to join Trump in his rage, his warmongering, or his hostility. This is a moment to anchor in the frequency of peace - to stand in the quiet, immovable power of love that always outweighs fear and outlives violence.

It’s a moment to send the light of love down the golden threads that connect us heart to heart…

From American to Venezuelan… 

From every corner of the globe…

From pole to pole…

Flooding the world with light and reminding the darkness that it never has the final word.

We declare peace.

We declare love.

We declare hope.

We declare joy.

By the light of this Moon, we stand firmly for love, and offer peace to all those who need it tonight.