The Wisdom of the Tarot

So much Judgement, yet not so much Temperance. We struggle in silence, Hanged Men looking for a new point of view. In the aftermath of a struggle, does the compassion of the Empress or the intuition of High Priestess provide any comfort for the bruised and beaten heart that has fallen from the Tower?

I ran to the fire, fully knowing I would be burned. Yet now I question my own ability to learn, and learn well, as I sit and nurse the singed and scarred parts of my spirit. It is the will of a fire sign to answer the call for justice and passion, to build the circle of fire and protect their loved ones. Those that call seem unaware of the cost of their requests, even as I rush to heed the need.

Dark, slow waters follow me now, pushing out the dead and decaying parts that were damaged and now are sacrificed for the sake of evolution and love. They flow out of me in so many tears, showing me the new growth of myself underneath. Is it the Wheel of Fortune that keeps these waters moving? Or is it my own selfish love that has yet to be fully balanced by Temperance that draws the waters from within me.

The clarity of the Sun almost blinds me, and it's warmth burns the tender new skin of my spirit that is as yet unprotected by time's hand.

What has this experience wrought?
And what is yet to come in the long path that lay before me?

Death occurs whether it is validated or not. We walk the paths of the Tree of Life whether we chart our course, or "go with our gut"... and who can say which is right and which is the illusion?

The Empress is my comfort, The Page of Cups is my guide.

Gently doth the flow of gentle waters deliver me into a new body, a new spirit, and a new day.