Mandala:

Tarot, Unity, and Myths

 

The Madman is a gunslinger at Calvary. Total freedom when the rain bubbles on the hot sand. It was with heavy shackles of wood and lion’s breath. A sack on his shoulder, a walking cane in his right hand, imprints of man in each palm.
 
When the Magician stole Mercury’s message there were murky puddles between their dried feet. If this foot were to submerse, a snake would wrap around the ankle biting its own tail. With a white robe protected by a wine-dark cloak, all the colours trapped inside a lily, she points her staff to the sky and the Earth rises beneath her left hand. An alchemist is born.
 
Isis met the High Priestess in Solomon’s temple. The exchange was quick, for Isis wished to trade a pomegranate for the moon under her foot. The High Priestess, sitting between the pillars of night and day, asked her, “Would you not want this solar cross that hangs between my breasts?” Isis shook her head, presented the fruit. It was an old ritual for new skin.

 

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