illuminations.

For two weeks I’ve woke up to the thought: “I need to do a reading and write a post today.” But the days kept passing, I didn’t pull any cards & I didn’t write a word. But this afternoon I thought, “I’m ready to do a reading and I want to write a poem.” Not even a poem, really. Just words. I’ve always hesitated to call anything I do poetry. Real talk? That’s just a personal insecurity. It’s a fear-based thought. I think to myself, “How can anything I write ever be beautiful enough to be considered poetic?” Then, I wake up out of that messy, low-self esteem, self-sabotaging daze and I realize: my entire goddamn existence is poetic. And so is yours. If you’ve forgotten & needed a reminder–this is it.

There are levels to the messages when reading tarot. Some of them we often don’t even realize at the time of a reading. It comes later, when we’re standing in the checkout line or folding laundry. I find we have our most extraordinary revelations doing ordinary things. That’s not by accident. So, my few words here won’t cover as deep as the meanings run with these cards, but maybe it can pull something out of you.

Long story short, I decided to bang out some shitty unedited free verse while meditating on these images.

My advice? Do what you need to do to revive your creativity when you feel it losing its breath. It’ll thank you.

The Sun.

to feel the warmth on my face,

revitalization

you gift me with your energy

all of it, radiating

from my fingertips

outstretched like rays

I reach for us,

glowing,

growing

I feel you underneath my skin,

soaking in, you stay

like the tan lines that still linger

on my body in deep winter

we laugh basking in light

ablaze,

even as we fade

I still feel the heat, eternal

between us

9 of cups.

so tell me,

if the Sun is the closest star to us,

if it’s light gives Earth life

why are we sending our wishes out so far?

I must have asked the Sun for you

not Sirius or Polaris

you came from the Sun

that is the only way this could feel

this good, this fast

I pour myself into you when you come

just like I poured out into the heavens,

waiting for you to arrive

here you are,

there you go

8 of cups.

and there I go,

the Moon comes out to wrap herself

around the Sun,

a crescent of comfort

she shows me parts of myself,

of you, of us

that I couldn’t see in daylight

I do not regret wishing for you

I do not curse the Sun for bringing you

I do not hate the Moon for revealing you

I am grateful for knowing

when to leave and when to stay

like Orpheus leading Eurydice,

I cannot look back

I am honored to love struggle

into stride

but mostly,

I am in love with knowing that if I go,

and you are mine, you will follow

someday, I know

you’ll catch up.

You.

From the moment I saw Prince Charming kiss Snow White awake, I began to imagine You. In the dimly lit living room, the bright glow of the television screen lit up my face the way the thought of You lit up my heart. I didn’t know You then. Twenty years later and I still don’t know You. Maybe I do, but if so I’m unaware of it at the present moment. You are someone I’ve spent years constructing in my head, but at the same time I know You exist. At the same time, as much as I’d like to think I dreamed You up, I know with how wild and wonderful You are, there’s no way to pinpoint all that makes you You. You are what happens when someone meets everything (both incredible & terrible) in life with pure love—an infinite optimist, a soulful light.

Truth is, I can think day in and day out about You and what I think You will be like. But I know that when You finally show up, You will be all of that, none of that, and so much more. You are the unexpected and the familiar. You bring me healing, but You also need it from me. You hurt, I hurt. I forgive, You forgive. And when we grow, we grow together, not apart.

You tell me you like the way my mind works. You wake me up with fresh coffee. You love the way it feels when I run my hands through your hair. My mother adores You. You call me by my last name sometimes. You eat the vanilla side of half-moon cookies because You know I only want the chocolate. You play me that one song that never fails to make you cry. I cry too. You fantasize with me about all of the places we’ll go, and You start a change jar so we can get there someday. You see us as an adventure. You see us as effortless. You see our love as a way to breathe positivity and generosity into the world. Above all, You are honest with me.

You are honest with me. 

You are honest with me, and You know I would rather hear the ugliest truths fall from your mouth than the prettiest lies. You are everything—everything wonderful the Universe could think up.

I am a wanderer by profession & by nature. Each step is one closer to You. You could be seconds away, or decades. I don’t know when You will find me or I you. But when You do, You will know. And when I wander, You will not shy away. You will follow, proudly and happily, falling into step beside me where You belong.

I am a romantic, and I have been romancing You from the moment I could pick up a pen and write a rhyme. I write about You constantly. You are my favorite subject, and I am Yours. I can’t wait to meet You. Be it for the first time or once again.