II of Pentacles

Like the sea
my soul is in turmoil,
yet I keep dancing,
prancing around on this earth.

I cannot break free,
cannot throw off even one,
let alone both.

X of Wands

For just one hour each day, one day each week,
lay down your burden, go apart and pray.
For just one hour, seek the Atman – call it what you may –
your Self, the Pearl within the mortal clay.

VIII – Strength

Life may pit you against a lion.
Life may pick you to be the woman
whose lot it is
to shore up the Pillar of Boaz.

Life will go to any lengths
to burst your balloon,
cause you to fail.

But when life has done its worst
it is your inner
not your outer strength
that will prevail.

IX of Wands

She said I wouldn’t die today,
it wasn’t written in the stars.
it wasn’t written in my hand.
And maybe she was right. Maybe.

So here is where I make my stand,
one last stand, let come what may:
and then I’ll sleep for ever –
or sleep tonight and die another day.

III of Swords

The rain falls …
The heart is pierced
not once
but again
and again …
And still the rain falls.

Only rain
can make the flowers grow
and bloom
and blow in the wind
and sunshine.
Only a pierced heart
can know
what it is to love.

XIII Death

For those who know, and knowing –
not deducing, not surmising,
but knowing – like I know where I grew up,
know the name and face and feel of my first love –
and knowing, know that any attempt to show
this was not so is laughable, preposterous, absurd –
for us, Death is merely the end of this,
the beginning of that,
and a funeral a rite of passage.

Beyond the Styx, beyond the Land of the Dead,
between the two white watch towers,
the sun is rising.

XIV – Temperance

I feel your sorrow,
share your sadness,
says the iris.

Let us temper
justice with mercy;
let the waters
flow up not down,
says the angel,
tempering gravity
with levity.

But behind the angel –
all unseen? –
it is the narrow trail that
leads to the golden crown.

VI of Swords

The battle is over.
In sorrow they survive,
these two.

Peace brings with it grief,
but grief brings peace,
and there is always tomorrow.

IX of Swords

Humans are brave, so brave,
but sometimes in the night they wake and know
that daylight, daytime, sunshine, laughter, love
are all a dream.

Humans are brave, so brave,
pretending all is well, but in the night
they wake and know that they are picnicking
beside an open grave.

VI of Wands

Isn’t it strange how ideas flow from your pen when you are writing poetry that would never otherwise cross your mind? The concept of Good and Evil in this poem is a perfect example …

The victory of Good over Evil?
Good and Evil
keep the universe in balance,
like yin and yang, male and female.

Good is the war against Evil,
Evil the war against Good.