The lady of the stars, the arch of the sky, Nuit is the ineffably cold mother of creation. She watches over her children with her million distant but sparkling eyes, seeing everything at once but never intervening. She is not lazy, but simply incapable of movement: for though she contains infinite potentiality within her aethyric body, she possesses no will of her own to set her in motion. Rather she glides and swirls in an eternal dance toward complete entropy, drifting in the currents that the movement of her blood (the astral wind) creates.
The art of astrology is nothing more or less than the study of Nuit's physiognomy. But the wisdom gleaned from her laconic, cyclical dance speaks more to the fate of the universe than to the fate of a given person or nation, which sorely renders this art beyond the interest and the grasp of all but a few extraordinary souls. Her grace becomes useful to her worshippers through her capacity to provide access to an infinity of potential worlds. Every visible star within her body is a world, a dimension, a plane, or an aethyr of its own, inviting the exploration of the microcosms within ourselves and the macrocosm that is our limitless universe.
One has but to call upon his or her own will to command the vast, whirling potential of Nuit's manifold gates. The energy that plays above us is ours for the taking, if we but learn to speak the names to which it responds. In time we too could escape the fetters of the shallow gravity well of our world, and be re-born through Nuit to become as gods in some distant world.
Though her face changes nightly, Nuit's alien beauty, her cold yet somehow passionate observation, and the ceaseless evocation of her mysterious eyes are irresistably familiar beacons to all who have stared into the night sky, and let themselves see it for what it could be.