The crossroads.
As I reach the crossroads and lean upon my stave
I remember being the hanged man just when I was a knave.
But now I am the king of cups with the lovers as my guide
and in a golden chariot I'll find out where you hide.
A rainbow in a cup and an 8 pointed star
became my point of reference to find out where you are.
I stopped off at the chapel to give my self some rest
but the priestess blessed the moon above and then she pointed west.
I saw a lightening stuck tower and many intelligent fall
but I became the wise fool and it didn't matter at all.
My stave became a lantern an inner guiding light
as I carried on my journey through the wast lands of the night.
You ride bare back upon a tiger, swirling in the sky
fired by your creative form you didn't have to try.
And I have seen you in a watery bed that's deep beneath the sea
and in a sacred moonlit grove I'll sit and wait for thee.
My tarot poem channeled from the cards.
Hybrid Mode
