Arcanum Fourteen, part 2

Pondering Fourteen today, I was looking at the Rider-Waite deck and noticed something I’d never seen before, a half-submerged skull in the lower right corner. It seems clear that it is the Emperor who has been taken by Death in the previous card, seen from a new perspective. Here, visited by the Archangel Uriel, with the ruby red wings, the scene is tranquil after all the drama of the scene of the card prior. Archangel Uriel transforms through Alchemy the fears of life and death into resilience and grace. Out of the tragedy grow yellow flags, water irises, that symbolize the secrets of passion, divine light, and grace of the fleur-de-lis.

This card is reflected in this deck in the 2 of Pentacles, the imbalanced juggler that is just barely holding it together. That card, with only luck on its side, is missing the grace of Fourteen and thus doesn’t represent true balance in the larger sense. We, see the gift of healing in the 2 of Cups, also reflecting that exchange that is done by Uriel in the Temperance card, but it is done with the involvement of two people, rather than an Archangel, or grace. In the 2 of Swords, we have patience, the waiting and waiting for time to take over and make the decision, rather than the flow of tempo. Finally, in the 2 of Wands, we have power without action. The Temperance card is definitely a flow of action, as Archangel Uriel stands in the spring, and on land, and we can imagine nothing is so still as the skull of the past. There is a freshness to the image, that begs us to understand the fragility and resilience of life.


Textiles Neophyte

They call me “pauper’s apprentice”. The
Value of my skills minimized to a heart beat.
My cheap labor is all that cloth is
After, that, and my eager acceptance of meager
Hot potatoes, but in truth, I shall thrive
Taking the skills I learn into the great wide
World. My hope lays within my comprehension
That with my indefatigable spirit I can make
This cloth a lasting example of competence.
Someday I will be its master, and then
Peace may be had over what I decide about
A single thread. Receiving the Gift of this chance
Without resentment makes me rich even as I
Begin from nearly nowhere. Call me cotton bale.

copyright © 2013 Vivi Sojorhn

Sage of Energy

Sage of Energy

It may seem unimportant, but my
Paintings keep the world guarded.
They are dreaming that connects
Before and after to this person,
Who drifts on the narrow ledge of
Life. Every event draws a step on time’s
Labyrinth, is a forest fire creating a new
World, and every action has results –
Whether armistice or war, freedom or
Slavery. My sunflowers soak up poisons
We’ve made for land, my snake vies with
Sun for importance, and I draw my
Soul in them, these creatures and fires keep
Me ablaze with a bright lust for life..

copyright © 2013 Amanda Morris Johnson

Four of Energy

The habit of giving it away can
Burn down attachment to any
Circumstances that appear to be
More important than they are, and
Allow celebrations, both pre-arranged
And unplanned, on crisp autumn
Days when the harvest is rich with
Apples and honey and there is a
Handy lute to strike up accordance
And early spring when joys cannot
Be held in reserve and tasted later
Even the memories of them fade our
Edges, photographs with sepia tones,
These little illuminations we share.

copyright © 2013 Amanda Morris Johnson

Five of Textiles

Every piece of fabric has two sides. Even
The simple ones do, though you can’t tell
The difference, and perhaps that is
What makes simple ones so worthy. I love
The complicated ones, with stitchery and
Patterns in the weave. Who can help admiring
the opposite, one side to the other? I am
Likely to wear the poor-looking backside of
A textile to fool the Fools. Let them presume
The poor gypsy wearing rags, frayed on
The edges and near the seams, if there are any.
I limp along through that fake hope of a
Crowd hiding scratchy interiors, towards my
Self, comfortable within, turning inside out.

2013 © Amanda Morris Johnson

Three of Vessels

Yes. This is the wet stamp of true
Triumph for containment. Kisses. An
Optimistic embrace of this generous
Moment when I can simply relax
In my soulful nudity and be who I am,
Right down to my emotional habits and lets 
Intuition guide me towards a state of ecstasy,
Shared with tender smiles and laughter. 
That it dares not cover my embarrassment
Instead stripping me down to susceptible
Joys that I wish would last forever, it’s
Like being in a naturally warm pool out there,
Impervious to weather, but eventually
I will have to climb out. Just not yet.

copyright © 2013 Amanda Morris Johnson

Two of Tools

Sometimes deciding on which tool
To use is half the battle. My struggle
To be correct, to find a solution that
Works for everyone has a surprisingly
Uncomfortable answer: vulnerability. I
Admit the false premise that this belt
Hung around my waist actually has
Something useful for every situation.
It is a step. Sometimes the tools
I have are the worst remedy and
Holding them is a dangerous peace at
Best, and so I lay them down at my own feet
Listening in silence, and at last access
The utility I abandoned: acceptance.

copyright © 2013 Amanda Morris Johnson

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