Arcanum Seven

Kosmic vehicles are different from
Carts and carriages materialism.
With no steering mechanisms, the
Passenger must be surrender. Driving
The reality that all preparations
will be left behind. A map won’t
Show up and there are no brakes.

Holding to the dream of a vague
Destination is harder than it looks!
To remain unprejudiced and yet
Alert a Fool must employ the
Gifts of expectancy and gratitude
In advance of receipt, and an
Understanding that the vehicle

May not be moving at all and still arrive.
Space will distort to any desire
Bringing both blissful and terrifying
Incident, but this is not the only
Law. By degree, the Fool learns peril.
When emotions maneuver Truth fire ensues.
When Truth runs emotion, subtle landings.

Copyright © 2011 Amanda Morris Johnson


Arcanum Six

Where fire meets water something else
Arises in this humid instant, a swirling
Corkscrew of perfection that owes nothing
To pretense of identity and repose. Here is
The first step of many to come when
Lovers cast aside their self-image in order to
Stoke a Fool’s rebellion – making the heart

True – because to stand against the rules
Energizes devotion in this life. This affair specifies,
Accepting the swoon of forgiveness, as the sands
Fall, being off the mark and reveling in it,
At any age an adolescent preoccupation, but
as Lovers undo their uniforms eagerly
To embrace the other side of belonging

They endure everything to have scope, and
Rather than betray the fragrant blossoming of
The alchemical rose, the tender tune sated,
A Fool hands over external incentives
To deeply know another move just before
Allowing the snakes to rise to the burning
Star, and conquering the crown of songs.

Copyright © 2011 Amanda Morris Johnson

Arcanum Five

Five fingers, five toes, five senses to use
for interpretation and experience of life itself.
Perceptive, she will have the Fool’s attention
By testing knowledge acquired through
the difficult initiation existence presents and she
Has no trouble sending the unsure to the
Back of the line. Try, try again neophyte..

Rites of passage won through strain and
Effort are her treasury and she understands
That she must give the divine oracle to the
Deaf and blind until they hear and see again.
She walks with two snakes as her companions,
The codex in her bones and blood, knowing
Her own life is blameless and in tact.

Humble when every Fool kneels before her
She prays she can prepare them for
The Truth that knows no other but aware
She is an intermediary between science
and hope, her expectations remain rather low.
She simplifies what is complicated and confuses
Too much ease to raise a Fool’s advance.

copyright © 2011 Amanda Morris Johnson

Arcanum Four

Only the Kunti knows the fathers
Of her many children wandering the
District trails. She doesn’t play favorites
And this law informs a Fool. Her love is
Imprecise and relaxed, and always
Expectant. She waits for no one to give
Her permission! She comes and goes

Always at will, always unattached
To all but the royal purple robe she wears
For occasions of burnished splendor.
Ageless in her magnetism she is the
Beloved of many and object of desire,
The point of confusion for some but this
Is her gift: to assist in experience

She is not responsible to the Fool
Rather it is the opposite. The Fool must
Make homage to her by ritual tender
Prolifically expressed on the dais
Of her hive, her web, her nest so that
Her peaches may be enjoyed by
All who pay for passage into lust.

Copyright © 2011 Amanda Morris Johnson

Arcanum Three

He sits in the lap of his stone throne
Waiting, neither patient nor provoked.
Exuding masculinity, he has no need to
To prove he can gore any contender and
They can see this and make a wide berth
Around him, not terrified by his crown –
They know that’s mere decoration

The rivals sense that in his hearty laughter
Is buried a switch, easily accessed and that
He might suddenly turn to use and
Shield his intimates from unwanted advance.
While his attention seems focused, intent
On this careful moment, he always
Includes the order of things: time to be tender;

Time to take charge, and always, the time
To be alert. It would take a Fool to
Make approach because the Bull will
Certainly be pleased to teach respect,
The need for decorum, real and meaningful
Diplomacy. He understands fences for what
They are and emanates presence of mind.

copyright@2011 Amanda Morris Johnson

Arcanum Two

Knowing what he knows, he waits
In the night air, for the star to set him
Free of the lonely laws that spill from
The mystifying crow’s mouth unbidden.
He sits holding the space for erudition
While our exquisite maidens remain in tact
No matter what conspires to unfasten

Their dedicated protection of the Word
Reflected in the pool, and our dear
Knower can only inculcate a fine few
Initiates properly prepared to hear the
The Truth that is, the Truth that
Cannot be avoided, that eternally must,
In due course, rest in the heart of

Every Fool in the dream of life, and
Until each person undoes her notions
Of the sanctity and righteousness of purpose,
The Knower will serve, and the maidens
Will surround him and beyond his reach —
So, to pass the endless time, he creates a story,
Poignantly, a diamond shard to his heart.

copyright (c) 2011 Amanda Morris Johnson

Arcanum One

The Sorceress increases a Fool’s world,
Her arms flung open with greeting.
This dance, wild and furious, attracts all eyes
Watching her refinement and splendor. A Fool indulged,
Mesmerized, simply following her thrust
Into all the luminous choices allied with
Space and time, or flesh and will…

This moment, now, reaches up and plunges,
Sinking a Fool on a soul’s expedition, a wish
To become, following her footfalls on a stone
Path that constructs itself beneath her toes
Each stone a mistake made in vain managing,
Impossible to avoid — upon this trail —
Discernment is earned only at a Fool’s expense.

The Sorceress beguiles senses with her
Promise of pleasure and ingenuity for creating
Subsequently the desperate caterpillar yearnings —
To experience the weaving of life’s tapestry, or
To chip away at our never-ending failings,
There is fire to forge and there is relieving cool water, and
In her being, a Fool’s exploits breathe and take flight.

Copyright © 2011 Amanda Morris Johnson

Ought or Naught

Ought or naught, the Fool begins and begins

Again because there is no still point

Until there is and when the absurdity

Of existence embraces me with adoration and

Accepts that I cannot help being this Fool,

and neither can they, then forgiveness

Grows in heart and mind, beyond and now –

Here is where the dream ends and reality takes

A role, and wakes up to a dance, a step towards the abyss

Fearless, yes, mischievously, and even tenderly.

For the conquests are not to be won but to be

Created. I look past alligator’s appetite with a wink,

Ignore nipping dear old familiar demands. She’s seen only

By others not quite aware, able or awake, and full of fear.

I am the honest Fool walking on edge. Wearing

A mask from the sleeping, knowing that danger is

Afoot and yet…nothing. I’ll not sell my soul as

Other fools might with no inkling of this perspective:

Behind every (?) leap are wings not seen. Trust praises

The labor in bringing forth a new life, knowing

Mountains move beneath this Fool’s marvelous feet.

copyright © 2013 Vivi Sojorhn