Tarot Reading Poem by Alicia Patti

You have cursed me
with your wormwood
and now I drift down
The River of Despond
hovering

in a sinking boat

No longer will The Six of Swords
pilot me to that distant shore;
I bow my head to its power,
Immured in its fractured prism,

and pray for a philosopher’s stone
to release some alchemy
or other magic imagery to transform
this rusting derelict to gold.

Perhaps the Four of Wands
waits on the horizon
with all its promise of freedom
from despair.

But wait, I think I see The Magician
waiting just around the bend;

or will he be just another charlatan
playing me along
right up to the end of the game?