2016-10-23

The Tower

the-tower

I’ve been recording and meditating on my dreams a lot lately. This poem came from one of those dreams.

The Tower

The beams are old—
there is something
beautiful about them.

Still, they need to come down.
For what,
we don’t yet know.

The intensity of our conviction
brings them down.

Destruction.

Sparks fly—
into a pool of concrete.

We’re being swallowed
by the nonessential.

Inside;
we’re all mad,
debauchery,
vanity,
trickery.

The blessing is outside
and death
is there too.

p.s. I’m so enchanted by this new tarot deck (shown above). You can purchase it in the shop here.

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