The High Priestess – Card 02 – Tarot
A veiled nun counts off her prayers.
Old age bends her low yet rapture uplifts her.
Angels are tamed and quote germane scripture;
they flap about heaven while flying the nave.
An iron gate is barred at night.
Black and white columns guard Hathor’s sanctum.
Frenzied young women dance around fires.
They quiver like rattles, foretell in lost tongues.
A cold spring wells from lush moss.
It’s shadowed by jungle, hidden by nature.
Wooden cup here and remnants of homage:
bread crumb and fruit rind, tinge of red wine.
Pragmatic young priests try hard to deny me
but I have existed since days were begun.
I dwell in the faithful, the god-touched, the chalice.
I speak through clairvoyance that knows beyond word.
I am the cloistered, the yin dark still virgin,
cloaked with blue ocean and crowned by the moon.
June 11, 2019