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?
|Nurse's Day 2020
I am a nurse
with no wish
to be a hero.
I will retire this spring
away from this throb of virus
and mobs with guns.
I will wear my mask
and dream of fields of children
and no mean streets.
I will help
to sing the dying
to their sleep
somewhere in more expansive light
as they unravel
all the tangled knots.
Pholarchos Tarot--13--Death--What you know turns inside out
|To Mask, or not to Mask?
This mask of mine, a mitzvah,
to Jesus, Buddha, Allah.
To a God without a name,
Are we not all one, all same?
Form: Tanaga--a quatrain of 7 syllables in each line, it asks a question seeking an answer.
Author's Note: In Judaism a mitzvah is a commandment, more than a good deed.
The HerbCrafter's Tarot:--2--The High Priestess--Awaken ancient memory.
|Beltane 2020--Believe VII
There are blessings enough this May Day morning. I wash my face in rose-petal dew hoping to keep my three score and eight face smooth.
I hang a May Day basket on my neighbor's door. My panic about this virus lifts a little. Shadow and resistance play side by side.
I don't know why all the workers aren't striking today in solidarity demanding health care, fair wages, safe working environments. Sad that this is still a continuing fight. But the workers at Amazon, Target and Instacart are striking. I will not cross their virtual picket lines.
I come to the pond and hope that Sybylla, the veiled mermaid that lives here will come this morning. She perhaps may be an oracle of hope this day of Beltane.
Beltane, for those that follow this old Pagan path ushers in the second half of the Wheel of the Year. It promises sunshine, growth, fecundity.
The pond frogs this morning are loud and whirring like waldteufels, but I hear a faint subterranean murmur and Sybylla surfaces.
She has come to this man-made retention pond in our community she has told me to escape the toxic algea in our rivers and Gulf.
Though I am in quarantine because I have had a Covid exposure I do not mask and keep a safe distance. Sybylla is veiled as she usually is.
I scatter rose petals in the water as an offering to her, to all the goddesses ancient, and modern. Mother Mary, Ishtar, Gaia.
Sybylla"s voice moves across the face of the waters, "You are the Holy Ones," she says.
I put my palms together in a greetting of Namaste. I turn to go. I have soup to make.
The Cook's Tarot--Page of Wands--Time to stir something up.
not in clock time
we stalk old gods.
Walpurgisnacht is the eve of May Day.. Traditionally witches are said to gather, celebrate, cast spells for health and prosperity.
I will be celebrating virtually on Facebook tonight.
This is a Than-Bauk poem. 3 lines of 4 syllables. The 3rd syllable of the 2nd line rhymes with the 4th syllable of the 1st line, and the 2nd syllable of 3rd line rhymes with the initial rhyme.
It is a sublimely grey and stormy day as if Mother Earth is saying----Not yet time to open the beaches.
Cook's Tarot--3 of Cups---Water is life.
I never call Sybylla, my veiled mermaid, directly. I wait till she approaches me.
But tonight I am tired and broken and I go the pond and softly call her name. I want to scream but don't want to disturb the neighbors, or the bear that has been roaming our community and rummaging our trash cans.
I have my rosary made of Job's tears and I pray and cry as silently as I can.
I am crying for the dead caused by this virus, and for their loved ones. I am praying for the front-line doctors and nurses. I am crying for myself because I am selfish and scared.
Sybylla says nothing. But she is singing, in a voice reaching to the farthest stars. "Ave Maria", she sings, "gratia plenar." Her voice encircles me, the neighbors, the wandering bear. A community of beings. She finishes and returns back to the depths of the pond.
I finish my rosary, still silently weeping. I believe....
Pholarchos Tarot--20-Judgement--The eye of every species is on you now.
Easter is cancelled
The wheel-of-the year continues to turn.
I watch the sun rise, leave treats of seed for the rabbits and ducks.
A retired minister walks our community blessing bread and wine left on our driveways.
The roots of plants dig deeper seeking water that is harder to find.
The Earth's ley lines bleed, tectonic seams shift.
We ask: What's next?
The sun shines.
Pholarchos Tarot--19--Sun--Whatever you do in life, find your essence and be true to it.
It was just a day in April, but it is the night of the pink full moon.
In Naples, the tababouia trees are blossoming with their golden flowers and, as always, the neon bougainvillea, splashy with amethyst and ruby blooms.
As the full moon rises I go to the pond's edge, this man-made retention pond, and I am serenaded by frog song and bathed in the glow of reflected television light.
I fall deeply into this night, in this time of pandemic, and think that Death is just a fall into the Great Night.
Sybylla, my mermaid, my psychopomp surfaces. I am masked as she is veiled. She came to this pond to escape the Gulf's toxic algae and now there is this air-borne virus. She does not know if creatures like her are vulnerable to this new threat.
She doesn't speak tonight but circles and circles, creating labyrinths within labyrinths on the water's surface.
I enter the spirals and sense land mass changes through the ages and see teachers that work with the Other Side. How many turnings and patterns can I float in at once? Deep in my heart I hear and feel the pull of the sea.
I place palm fronds at the water's edge, an homage to a deferred Palm Sunday. Sybylla lifts the fronds and swims back to the depths.
May resurrection come to us all.
The Cook's Tarot--18--We are our choices.
It is almost dark as I make my way to the pond's edge. Have others seen her, my mermaid, Sybylla? I cannot know as I hide the knowledge of her existance from others. Perhaps from myself as well.
This odd veiled mermaid is my psychopomp. She ferrys me back and forth between this world and non-ordinary reality.
Today is J.S. Bach's birthday. Bach's music transports, too.
At the water's edge I ask, "Alexa, play J.S. Bach."
The sublime music plays for a moment and then she jumps in an arc, her face unveiled, her hair shimmering with phosphorescent plankton,
and returns in a silent dive to the depths of the pond.
Does a psychopomp have a psychopomp?
Pholarchos Tarot--Trail of Coral--In water you will be led to explorations of the depths, love, and beauty.