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 |   My blog--I pull a card--if it doesn't speak to me...perhaps it is for you? |
I pull a card...if it doesn't speak to me...perhaps it was meant for you?    How to Read the Tarot Begin by brewing a cup of tea, a nervine, lemon balm or chamomile, this is after all, your future. A reading at the dark of the moon is best, before the night creatures crawl and bad humours fill the air. Pick a circular deck, with a fairy-tale motif, and no reversals. Hold a question in your heart, shuffle the cards and place them on the table. Choose only two. Like the ancient Israelites, these are your seer stones, Urim and Thumimm, black and white, yes or no. Isn't that all you were asking?  |
| Mother's Day--A Sybylla story It has been over a year since I have spoken to Sybylla. Sybylla is a veiled mermaid that resides in the retention pond behind my condo. She came to live there when toxic algal blooms poisoned the Gulf of Mexico and she remained through the height of the Covid pandemic. She helped me keep my sanity with her oracular statements during the Covid times of isolation. I had gone down to the pond Mother's Day at sunset to watch the cerulean sky turn to purple and pinks. I was still wearing my white carnation corsage. Growing up, it was a tradition to wear a white carnation on Mother's Day if your mother had passed, or a red one if she was living. I wasn't expecting to see Sybylla after so much clock time had passed. I knew though that the trickle and glimmer of thought and feeling across time and space kept us connected. I heard a scraping sound in the shallows of the pond accompanied by the smell of singed grass and knew she was there. Sybylla had become more verbal with each meeting, but was always curt and to the point. In her gravelly voice she blurted, "CuriousWhat's with the white flower?". I explained to her the symbolism of the flower. I also added that my mother's life had been a catastrophe marred by mental illness and an early death from cancer. I knew that I still carried a mother wound in my body and soul. "Give your pain," chanted Sybylla, "to the Great Cosmic Mother, She who births all, She who nurtures all." With a splash she disappeared into the depths of the pond. Watching the last rays of sunlight dappled over the water I removed my carnation and placed it at the water's edge. Slowly, imperceptibly I watched as the flower petals changed from white to red. "Good night, Mama", I whispered , "I love you". Oracle of the Mermaids--Motherhood--46--Protection, inner child, nurture |
| To My Grandchildren I want you to know that all larvae matters and all firefly larva glows. But don't mistake them for fairies that shimmer and shine. Don't trap either in jars, they are meant to be free. And don't believe the folklore that fairies can harm you. Be kind, that's all Believe in fireflies, fairies and flower mites that thrive in the nostrils of hummingbirds. Believe that this Earth is a good place to live. The Herbcrafter's Tarot---Curandera of Earth--Sweetgrass--The living earth is our greatest teacher. |
| Patchouli Patchouli perfume takes me back to a time when there was no lack and all was open in my heart. Only peace and love could emerge, harmony at the very verge of sundering my world apart. I had a flash of that again surrendering all of my pain. This old hippie again unblocked. Form: none otto 9 lines Author's Note: Patchouli was a favorite scent of flower children in the 60's and 70's. Oracle of the Essences---Patchouli--I am one with the earth. I am one with my body. |
| Aphanipoiesis I entered this poetry pharmacy for thirty days of healing. I exit with a glory, friendship, expansion, sharing. Pholarchos Tarot--2 of Coral--cleanse the hostage heart, give it back to joy |
| Thrall Love today just halfway if that is all you can afford to pay of memories you can recall of a thousand creatures both great and small the tiniest molecules to the birds above hold you in a thaumaturgical thrall. Powers of this deeper world crawl, shimmer and fade away. Mystery calls it a play. I say, love. Form: diatelle Pholarchos Tarot---Dreamer of Wings--Who is being dreamed? |
| Rosary She didn't know I prayed the rosary but sent me one from Poland made of Job's Tears. My affliction don't number Job's but I crawl bead by bead to the Great Cosmic Mother and sometimes just to Mary with my petty concerns. Sometimes I pray without petition dissolving into mystery and synchronicity. Tarot of the Crone--10 of Wands--Transformation--I went as far as one could, then went farther. |
| Stuff My sister is a minimalist. I am not. She says, "We never had money for stuff, I don't want stuff." I say, "I want more." My sister collects memories. I collect vintage clothing, teddy bears, Depression glass, nun dolls, Bakelite jewelry. She who dis with the most stuff, still dies. I don't need retail therapy, just therapy. My sister is a minimalist. I am not. Tarot of the Crone--Witch of Disks--Lady---I have all I need and can get what I want. A world of riches surrounds me. |
| Pole Dancer I confess I write from prompts from Katya and the Sunday Whirl. My poetry needs a framework a pole on which to twirl. I send them out into the world without a thought of plagiarism. If AI can do it, so can I eschewing rhyme and rhythm. Pholarchos Tarot---9 of Spirals--Keep Learning |
| Woke What is this word woke? A name for dancing, rising bodies becoming willing to risk gender bending. Learning, granting, building a new world where mystery is the only dogma. Pholarchos Tarot--3 of Wings--Gather the seeds of wisdom, the storm will be over and the teachings etched within. |
| Queen of Wings I sang with the birds today the air still cool and tender. Mourning doves, a raucous hawk, moor hens by the river. A thrum of wings and feathers an ave to forever. Form: heptasyllabic Pholarchos Tarot--Queen of Wings--The path is full of scattered poems brought in by wind storms. |
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