She rises in the East as the Morning Star. She sets in the West as the Evening Star.
This duality has marked her since time began. She is all at once, life and death. She is the patroness of love and pleasure when she hangs over the warm hearth at night and the conjugal bond renews. She is the goddess of war in the morning when the blood thirsty and bold look skyward for courage in their rush to war.
The cultures of all times, all places, have sought to possess her. The Babylonians, Aztecs, Sumerians, Mayans, Greeks and Romans claimed her, calling her their special names of power, Quetzalcoatl, Tcholban, Queen of Nineveh, Aphrodite and finally, according to the Romans, Venus. She is that elusive spirit that walks before and behind her supplicants, day and night, goading and seducing.
Who is she truly then, that sumptuous thing that succors the needy, punishes the wicked, and feels not afraid to shine in the presence of the Sun and the Moon? Who is she then that captivates the sullen, conquers the beasts, inspires the hopeless and fills the deserving with the love sublime that rises above?