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Click hereTarot Reading: Traces of the Pharaoh’s Rota
I was riding the wheel through the 14th Century
when I came upon a maiden pouring water
into a stream from an earthen ewer
in her right hand, the left pouring water
on the ground. She was seventeen, and nude.
The butterfly that fluttered near her arm
seemed content to ignore her auburn tresses
as they threatened to entangle its flight.
She was kneeling, resting her right foot
upon the stream or pond - it was hard to tell,
for it flowed to the left and out of sight.
Eight stars were numbered in the heavens,
and the tree had twenty-two leaves.
Everything else was barren, and the earth
was a thirsting, deadly brown.
Of the eight, one star ruled the others,
lounging in the center of the sky that was
perched precipitously above her head.
It was smiling, and was hope and satisfaction
when drawn rightly - the bad luck of a world
when turned upside down. Riding the wheel
through the 14th Century, I discovered
a woman kneeling, hiding nothing, slaking
my portents by pouring water in a stream.
Very intelligent and wonderfully written. I will save this one and read it again.
This to me, read like the introduction to a novel. A novel I would certainly read. Last stanza is wonderful. Thanks for sharing your work with us.