there in my hand in you stood,
the wand of power radiating heat,
that lion gleaming golden at your throat
and daring me to meet in the arena.
i hadn’t had my coffee; half asleep,
i never saw the big cat ‘til much later.
nor did i see the lizard lying greenly,
all submissive to your lordly form.
your flame-red cloak – it taunts me!
i am no bull prepared to charge
at anything that stands before me.
i can’t; i am a coward of the heart.
this wringer’s chewed me up before
and left a beaten shroud of skin bereft of any hope.
and, in the way of things, i healed,
but that encounter left a mighty scar.
look! here it is, all glowing scarlet
though i work artfully to paint it over.
how painfully it throbs if i’m not careful
in my heart and in my thinking.
and now another challenge,
all unbidden, has arisen.
i cannot meet it; i will crumble bit by bit
until there’s nothing left of me but ashen petals.
indeed, this morning who should greet me,
waiting there, arrayed in power?
i must defer to you, o king of wands,
i abdicate the future to your noble hands.
© 2012 RC deWinter ~ All Rights Reserved
An allegorical meeting and conversation through the medium of the Tarot.