Big challenge I’ve been procrastinating on for Alison Cross’s Tarot study group lesson she titled “storytelling.” She wanted us to make up a story (beginning, middle, end) for cards we’d pulled over several days’ time. That was several weeks ago. Oh, I’ve kept up with other more recent lessons as I continued to put this one off.
At first, the challenge was, “I don’t write stories.” And I don’t. Not in prose, anyway. I’m far too lazy, in a way, to lay out a story with plot and character development over even a page or two. Great at nonfiction reporting, but making up a story out of my head? Nope. So I procrastinated.
Then I thought, well, I do tell stories, don’t I? I write poems. Haven’t written any new ones in over a year, though. Muse has gone missing. Well here’s a good poetry prompt, don’t you think? Then it took awhile to get into the poetry mindset again, but the muse has returned from her vacay along the shores of Ireland and has agreed to participate.
So, this is the first of my poem-stories to fulfill the lesson, and also contribute to my Tarot companion book. Nothing like capturing two birds with one pen. My first draw for this lesson just happened to be the High Priestess/Popess. I thought of going all historical with the Marseille Tarot version of this, but what came out was more like the Thoth version of this lady, and so the picture fits.
Before the Veil
Incense and smoke wind
through a torchlit labyrinth.
She strokes the shadows,
traces marble cracks
where darkness oozes
black onto her icy feet.
The other side of visions;
the other side of stars
she bows low before it,
a bright white veil waving.
Behind it, an altar looms
but no blood nourishes
these gods, only a great book.
Bound she is to its secrets,
alone she stretches hands,
raises dark gray eyes.
She murmurs sybillas
through scarlet lips.
Her curved skin shivers
along its length, shifting.
Behind the veil,
beyond the stars,
She flies into darkness
to bear a message back.
Look upon her pale form,
gaze into those smoky eyes,
and fall yourself into the deep.
Time for consciousness to sleep.
And spirit to awake.
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