Stable & Able

Cards from Sefirot: The Spheres of Heaven Tarot by Eliot Baum, Georg Hobmeier, Viv Tanner, and James Patton of Causa Creations

🔮

In the cresting full moon energy of Sunday, November 26:

Harkening back to my surprise at the Nine of Swords‘ appearance in three consecutive draws (as well as featuring in the same position for the two full spreads), it seems that the Eight of Pentacles has now taken up the mantle, maintaining its central position from my last spread.

Its evident steadfastness from the last draw to the present is especially apt for this spread, since the greater theme here seems to be “stability,” but I’m getting ahead of myself:

The Cards:

The Emperor is said to be the embodiment of stability itself, reigning over an orderly creation or otherwise putting that creation to order. But the omnipotent ruler is no tyrant: to maintain his kingdom, he must remain receptive, open to interpreting his rules loosely (or bending them) if need be, and ensure that his reliability is balanced with some measure of playfulness. The Major Arcana’s fourth card resonates with the stability of that number: when chaos comes his way, The Emperor has the power to make himself an axis at the center of things, anchoring his kingdom in moments of disturbance or disarray. He can bring this peace to both body and mind, seated firmly in the physical landscape of his kingdom, channeling the wisdom of the sun’s rays shining behind him. The accompanying goat (symbol of Aries) further illustrates the leadership, expressiveness, and passion necessary for this role.

As we learned in my last spread, the Eight of Pentacles illustrates “material and spiritual perfection,” the transcendence (or perhaps transmutation) of wealth in the material plane to the richness of spirit that saturates the waking world and encourages us to look beyond it. Building on the stability of the number four (either The Emperor’s or the Four of Pentacles), this doubled stability lends both sturdiness and flexibility to this space “where holiness can happen.”

While the greater theme of the Three of Wands centers on the “explosion of growth” in—and the traditional abundance of—the trinity, I find it interesting that this card also emphasizes stability as the counterpart and central phase of the other two stages of life: initial growth and eventual decay. The Three hints at just one possible vector of growth toward thriving, flourishing, decay, and death, often specifically invoking the vital, creative, and/or sexual energies of the Wands suit. As these energies unite and emanate from the center of this card, the potential for self-discovery in the budding seed is revealed.

Reflections:

The Emperor introduces us to the concept of stability and order; the Eight of Pentacles gives us an idea of the nature of that stability—i.e. the balance of reconciling the material with its spiritual value; and the Three of Wands introduces a temporal element to that understanding, reminding us that stability (of any kind) is only one component of life’s journey, both as important and as temporary as the growth that led to it and its eventual transition into decay.

I try to put these archetypes into context with my previous draws:

I do feel that I have experienced a measure of personal growth in exploring the emotional energies of the Cups from October to November, and that, after finding proper channels to express that emotion, I’ve been at a plateau of sorts. It’s been a lot of meaning-making of the mundane, recognizing the spiritual saturation not only of those emotions, but of the creative potential of the Wands, the rootedness of the Pentacles, and the (persistent!) awareness of the Swords.

The full moon is arguably an appropriate time to invoke the stability and wholeness of these constructs, and I can’t help but wonder as we cycle closer to the dark moon (very close now, since I’m so delayed with this post) if the relative, neutral stability I’ve been feeling is about to be shaken up as the rhythm wanes toward decay (and eventually rebirth): there are some significant changes beginning this week to interrupt my routine and establish at least a temporary and possibly very malleable new approach to life. I trust that The Emperor will still be within me somewhere, that I can still see the spiritual significance behind mundane happenings, and that I may roll with the triune cycle of creative energy.

May the same blessings be upon you all!

Open to Interpretation

Cards from Sefirot: The Spheres of Heaven Tarot by Eliot Baum, Georg Hobmeier, Viv Tanner, and James Patton of Causa Creations

🔮

I chose to draw this spread during November’s New/Dark Moon energy the evening of Sunday the twelfth, since it is often a time of introspection and shadow work for me. Appropriately, I was not only presented with a comparatively challenging array — at least while I’m still familiarizing myself with this deck — but a third appearance in a row from the Nine of Swords, already having pulled it once (in the same position) in my last full spread, and on its own as a single draw among its seventy-seven companions in this deck. If anyone out there has some wisdom to share with me about one card appearing as frequently, I’d be very grateful!

The Cards:

Sefirot illustrates the Knight of Pentacles as a symbol for the “fruits of hard labor,” emphasizing no singular task or project, but instead cycles of labor as mirrored by the arcs of starlight above. I can’t help but picture the rings of some great, cosmic tree through which we might be ascending, as steadfast in its roots as the Knight is diligent and stubborn. In this resoluteness, there is weighed and measured assessment: they carefully examine their nearest star, loath to seek any quick scheme or easy answer to success; they wield no weapon to stab forcefully toward fate, but a buckler to hold as steady and strong as their mount. This iron resolve can also mean no mercy when it comes to repetitive or tedious tasks, whether to the self or to others: the tireless will reigns.

The Eight of Pentacles is described as “material and spiritual perfection,” a pillar both sturdier and more flexible than the Pentacles’ previous iterations of perfection, specifically the suit’s fourth pip and the impermanent financial or material stability it evokes: the Four guides us not to rest too long in perceived comforts, but to move (eventually) toward the combination of physical and spiritual strength we see embodied by the Eight. The card’s golden arcs of starlight echo those of the Knight here, its pillar an even more solid image of my conjured cosmic tree: a column as sturdy as the trunk of a giant sequoia, yet every bit as pliable in the ethereal winds, for it is that very spirit that saturates and fortifies the material itself. Beyond the earthly is where true riches lie.

The Nine of Swords introduces a dynamic (and puzzling) contrast to its companions: here is the weapon that the Knight does not wield, a brutal and double-edged ninth blade to interrupt the balance of its eight accompanying, elegant sabers. My previous two draws have indicated that the Nine is a symbol of “new beginnings,” representing a conscious choice to emerge from the quiet “void” of the Eight of Swords and return to the waking world to share what insight was gathered there. Remembering that the Swords are “instruments of… the spiritual force of divine reason,” I struggle to reconcile an additional description of the Eight of Pentacles as the space “where holiness can happen” with the Nine’s potentially counterintuitive role in willfully sundering that perfection, assuming I can apply the narrative chronology of the suits interchangeably; if so, maybe the lesson lies in the story of the categorical Eight’s perfection fading by the time we arrive at Nine, but also that this energy “can still be put to masterful use.” Alternatively, perhaps I shouldn’t try to reason my way around the dichotomy since the Sefirot guidebook cautions that “the thrust of our sword” may be “twisted and bend around our target,” remembering that some knowledge is meant only to exist in the void.

Reflections:

After chewing on this one for a week now, I’m reminded of the inherent mystery of the Tarot and the complexity of interpreting its themes and archetypes. It seems like the concept of spiritual strength or significance suffusing the material ties directly to the reality of labor here: perhaps spiritual fulfillment lies (at least partially) in total devotion to the work that I do; or maybe my care and attention to playing the long game will be rewarded beyond material stability alone when the time comes; maybe the temporal elements of these first two cards are what’s most important, suggesting that I might focus on the bigger picture of cycles of tedious versus fulfilling work, as well as the natural vacillations between material and spiritual stability. Or maybe this is the template I’ve already been working with, having sought financial and existential achievement in the labors I undertake, and the Nine is the more important factor here: maybe I need to cleave through my perceptions of vocational perfection and seek a more diversified approach to fulfillment instead of insisting on my perfect ikigai.

It’s also been harder to figure out where this spread fits into the narrative of my previous spreads (if it’s supposed to at all). So far they’ve been mostly about my journey through emotional experiences, whereas this one grounds me in a material landscape (the Pentacles suit). Granted, it’s a landscape saturated with the spiritual (as suggested by the Eight), and moreover a landscape that requires some intrusive measure of intellect or reason to begin to understand. Maybe this spread represents an additional narrative shared within my greater, ongoing story, one that illustrates the more physical reality of my professional life and how it affects and is affected by the spiritual and emotional landscapes alluded to in previous spreads so far. That might help give more context to the Nine here as a referee of sorts, who has already appeared singularly as an omen of reengagement and in the context of emotional creativity: with the other spreads in mind, the lesson here could be to allow the fruitfulness of my conscious, intellectual choices to join both my actionable intuition and my emotional exploration beyond perceptions of comfort or perfection.

We could also take the Occam’s Razor approach to this spread: some good old-fashioned labor leads to stability, but that stability also eventually fades in favor of new projects and opportunities that arise.

Since I haven’t landed on anything seemingly definitive this time, I think I’ll choose to let the ultimate truth of this draw (if there is one) remain in the void and move forward with the more abstract ideas it has brought to mind. I’d also love to hear any thoughts you might have on this spread in the comments!

If you can’t find the answers you’re looking for, may you be moved, at least, by the process!

Return of the Swords

Card from Sefirot: The Spheres of Heaven Tarot by Eliot Baum, Georg Hobmeier, Viv Tanner, and James Patton of Causa Creations

🔮

(From Friday, Nov 10, 2023)

The first time I shared my (non-poetry-oriented) tarot practice here featured a single pull for my first intentional draw immediately following a monthly meeting with a “spiritual companioning” group in October. I did the same for our November meeting last week, focusing both on the concepts of our discourse and also the energy we generate together.

I was surprised to once again see the Nine of Swords reveal itself, since it appeared in the previous spread almost exactly a week prior. Perhaps because I had already familiarized myself with its interpretations, it was somewhat easier to suss out how it was relevant to our companioning journey as a single pip card without any companions of its own for context (unlike my experience with the Three of Pentacles).

Without divulging any intimate details of our discussion (it’s a closed and sacred space), we spoke generally of lingering in the seemingly desolate deserts or voids of our experiences, and the importance of recognizing the value in this perspective that we might then take with us on our eventual return to the more fertile world. The Nine of Swords reflects these potential “new beginnings,” assuming the conscious choice is made to move through and emerge from that void. Our introspective, true selves born out of that liminal space tend to shine in our meetings, and in sharing those insights with one another, we ground ourselves a little more comfortably in this world (though we certainly listen to the silence when it joins us, and respect that some understanding is meant to remain in the void).

May the thrusts and parries of our intellect stay true to our spiritual forms, and may we celebrate new beginnings together!

Page Turner

Cards from Sefirot: The Spheres of Heaven Tarot by Eliot Baum, Georg Hobmeier, Viv Tanner, and James Patton of Causa Creations

🔮

Friday November 3, 2023, I drew the above from my Sefirot deck, and this spread in particular has shifted my awareness to the continuum of theme and application: every spread I’ve drawn so far seems to advance the narrative of its predecessors, building beautifully upon the emotional depth reflected in my journey (a given, perhaps, with the recurring suit of Cups, but of course that’s my point).

The Cards:

The Page of Cups echoes “powerful emotions” indeed, a servant of the vessel brimming with the whole spectrum of tumultuous feelings and sentiments in the human condition. The unpredictable ebb & flow between these extremes is especially evident. In my interpretation, this youthful novice or learner might be trying to wield the all-encompassing Ace of Cups itself as a chaotic Divine is channeled through them (perhaps feeling, at times, like Pippin of The Two Towers trying to use the palantír). Perhaps like any child, they are capable of a remarkable range of expression and creativity (which ties gracefully into the following Ace of Wands), but likewise unskilled in controlling and channeling that electrifying chaos. This card may be a hint to expect the unexpected.

The “creative potential” of the Ace of Wands calls creative forces into action. Anything is possible in this genesis, even the derivation of something from nothing. It is the drive of passion: a pure, authentic, creative energy.

The Nine of Swords can usher in “new beginnings” if a conscious choice is made to emerge from the void that we entered in the silence of the suit’s preceding Eight of Swords. Something that we learned of the true self in that liminal, introspective space returns with us to the world, where we may share it with others, a process that is necessary to be part of this world, rather than withdrawn from it. Conversely, we must respect that some knowledge is meant only for the void when the thrust of our intellect bends around its target.

Reflections:

Lately I’ve felt like I am the Page of Cups (I teared up as soon as this card appeared in my spread), learning how to balance my goblet of turbulent emotions and figuring out how to express them when challenges crop up. They’ve run the gamut from fear and grief to joy and gratitude, and there have certainly been many unexpected events and shifts recently that require my continued improvement. My creative urges (Ace of Wands) have seemed to resurface somewhat with this flood of emotion, begging to grow from those muddy waters and blossom into new (or renewed) experiences. It has certainly encouraged me to post this journal of sorts here to share with whoever might need it, especially if the lesson of allowing myself to move through emotional chaos resonates. So in combination with my previous reading’s emphasis on allowing my intuition to guide me through these emotions, I’m taking those tumultuous feelings, pouring them into creative channels, and transforming them into something new to share.

I hope that the waters of your own emotional chalice are nurturing your creative endeavors as well. May you see them with clarity and grow something new to share!

Steps on the Road

Card from Sefirot: The Spheres of Heaven Tarot by Eliot Baum, Georg Hobmeier, Viv Tanner, and James Patton of Causa Creations

🔮

Monday, October 30, 2023, I made my first attempt to draw a single card to encourage a focus or theme of concentration for the day. In retrospect, it wasn’t specifically helpful, maybe since I’m still familiarizing myself with the concepts & energies of these cards, but I also find that the pip cards (the Minor Arcana’s numbered suits, excluding Court cards & Major) are especially challenging in single draws. Since this deck treats each suit (Ace to Ten) as its own self-contained journey of sorts, with each number representing a stage or event of that journey, I’m finding that they naturally work better in combination with other cards to take full advantage or their relationality.

All the same, I tried with the Three of Pentacles, and whether or not it was helpful for that particular day, it at least helped me better acquaint myself with another card.

This pip can represent a first stage of learning and decisively acting in the material world, especially an attempt to manipulate the world somehow for a practical goal. It holds the potential for enormous progress, but not without dangers: caution is encouraged to avoid losing control of whatever power or expectations are found. Representative of all that is right and wrong with the first active steps down the road of material action, I take this card to represent the triplicity of trying, doing, or not doing (alternatively: the attempt, and the potential of its success or failure).

Most of the pentacles suit gives me big “As above, so below” vibes, and it’s no different here with the light and dark halves plotting the pentacles on a vertical axis, even conjuring a yin-yang-esque, reflective quality. The linearity is also important, given the metaphor of “the road of material action” suggested in the deck’s guidebook.

Again, I think the Three of Pentacles is better served in relation to others in a fuller spread, but I’ve at least gained more insight into the card, and lost nothing. One step on the road to progress, after all!

Intuit : Into It

Cards from Sefirot: The Spheres of Heaven Tarot by Eliot Baum, Georg Hobmeier, Viv Tanner, and James Patton of Causa Creations

🔮

October 28, 2023 hid a full Hunter’s moon behind quenching rainclouds: I couldn’t help but channel those inspiring energies as I drew another tarot spread. So far this practice seems to narrate an ongoing story reflecting my personal journey, as each spread carries the themes of its predecessors.

The Cards:

The Ace of Cups can represent the entirety or oneness of an emotional life, concentrated in a single source of potential: the abundance from which all hopes and joys — as well as their emotional shadows or reflections — flow. We may see “love’s limitless potential,” as the Sefirot guidebook suggests, held up by the Divine.

The Lovers may show us an emotional union, the spectrum of love across mind, body, and soul. This total fulfillment isn’t necessarily limited to romantic love, but can encompass any complementary forces of harmony. There is multiplicity in this otherwise singular, unconditional union of “blissful harmony.”

The Queen of Wands might be a “master of intuition” who calmly wields the intricate knowledge of their own perceptions at the ready – to be boldly put into action, if need be. They are receptive, but not passive: a dynamic ruler with an imposing but irresistible charm, the gut feeling that cannot be ignored.

Reflections:

I initially settled on a message of harmony in the union of these complementary forces: emotional abundance in tandem with creative, actionable intuition.

The day’s atmospheric environment drew me to some other comparisons: the abundance of the full moon in relation to the fullness of the Ace of Cups; the latter overflowing much like the rainstorm’s clouds above; the full moon’s associations with creativity (wands), emotion (cups), and relationships (The Lovers).

I also sought to better define “intuition” as it relates to the Queen of Wands: the direct perception of truth independent of rational reasoning (which I would reserve for the suit of Swords); keen perception, a gut feeling more complementary to emotional intelligence than logic.

I arrived, then, at a suggestion of sorts: let us allow the limitless potential of our emotion or love to join with its complementary force of actionable intuition in order to illuminate some (blissful) harmony.

Not bad as is! But I also wanted to listen more closely to the cards and put my logical interpretations aside (as the Queen suggests) to ask myself, “How does this spread make me feel?”

In the Ace of Cups, I sense the overflowing well of my own deep emotion. The Lovers shows me the safety, protection, and mutual support of those with whom I am in harmony. The Queen of Wands reveals my seat of intuition, the self-assuredness that I am confident in my emotional intelligence.

My more personal take-away: I am confident that my intuition will guide me to a harmonious union with the deep well of emotions inside myself, especially with the support of my loved ones.

This spread is doubly illuminating following the previous week’s draw, which you can see in my previous post: I took The Devil, the Three of Cups, and the Two of Pentacles as a reminder of the importance of knowing how to access cathartic grief and allowing it to illustrate the necessity of balancing complex emotions that are rooted in lived experiences. If I continue to trust my intuition, I’m sure it’ll be easier to arrive at that balance and harmony.

I hope that you’re all navigating your own journeys well, that the full moon was enlightening for you, and that the waning energies of Samhain / Halloween / Day of the Dead continue to give you pause to reflect and remember as autumn descends.

Devil You Know

Cards from Sefirot: The Spheres of Heaven Tarot by Eliot Baum, Georg Hobmeier, Viv Tanner, and James Patton of Causa Creations

🔮

Saturday Oct 21, 2023 followed closely on the heels of a traumatic event: my dog (read: child and emotional anchor for whom I would sacrifice just about anything) has some recurring health issues, one of which was triggered when he — deep and regretful breath — slipped from my arms as I was drying him after bath time. He landed hard. And my emotions landed even harder: burning anger at the situation; shame and guilt for seemingly failing at my role as guardian (no matter how much the sympathetic vets assured me that accidents happen); and later, after a painful and cathartic cry, deep grief and what I learned was fear of his mortality.

Throw that into the spiraling maelstrom of stressors over the past year (or three, or six), and I’ve been swimming against an exhausting current.

This spread (along with therapy) helped me put some things in perspective. (Note: If it’s more than one, I almost always do a three-card spread. So far, three seems numerous enough to express a complex message, but also few enough to prevent getting overwhelmed. I also try not to force any particular order on a spread, and instead let the cards guide me toward a more organic directionality, if any. I also don’t feel the need to interpret reversals in any especially different way.)

The Cards:

After reviewing the cards and the Sefirot guidebook’s suggested associations, I saw the Three of Cups as representative of some emotional connection between the two other cards, and moreover as an intensification of the bonds between them. Other associations could include a breathtaking or harmful creation — possibly a fragile one either way — but certainly some undeniable attraction.

Among Sefirot’s suggestions for The Devil is an unexpected manifestation of the Divine: in Christian mythology, Satan as the Adversary sent by God comes to mind. This manifestation, however, is still rooted in the material world (a world represented by the pentacles, which this spread seems to support.) This card may symbolize a state of being bound by the inability to acknowledge and see beyond one’s own darkness — or personal demons, or Shadow Self — though moving through that suffering inevitably leads to wisdom: if there is some reversal of fortune, there is also eventually freedom from it.

Moving further into that earthiness, the Two of Pentacles embodies the dualistic union of material forces, as well as the friction between them — in my case, the shit that keeps hitting the fan, and my reactions or responses to that suffering. As one disk is balanced on the other, so must stability be maintained through observance (and acceptance) of life and its complexity.

Reflections:

This spread represents an emotional connection (cups) tying together and intensifying two concepts: 1) the wisdom that comes from an inner darkness that I had to access in order to move through suffering and allow myself to feel my emotions, and 2) the balance of natural but complex events in the real world (like facing the reality of health and decay).

I am in the process of learning how to access cathartic grief and allow it to illustrate the necessity of balancing complex emotions that are rooted in lived experiences, and while this was the first real spread I drew with this deck, I immediately felt as if I’d been spoken to on a profoundly spiritual but also very practical level. I’ve drawn a few since then, and each time these archetypes are sublime.

May you get to know yourselves, and be the better devils for it!

Radiance

I’ve been practicing more with Tarot this year, largely as a method of seeking poetic inspiration in the imagery, themes, and associations of a couple decks (see my previous few posts for examples).

This year has also been an especially challenging one, and the past few weeks in particular. Combined with my love of TTRPGs, this need for mental and emotional escape led me to find a Kickstarter campaign for a project called The Hidden Isle, a game that uses the creator’s previously published Sefirot: The Spheres of Heaven Tarot deck as the driving mechanic of gameplay.

The more I researched the deck, the more I fell in love with it, so I bought myself a copy about the same time that I backed the Kickstarter. Thankfully, since the deck in and of itself is independently available, I’ve had my hands on it since my birthday in early October.

All that to say: I’ve been doing a lot of introspective and shadow work with this deck, which has helped me better understand my experiences and struggles through its immaculate designs and archetypes. In addition to keeping a journal of my practice with the Sefirot, I’ve been guided (through the deck itself, as you’ll read a few posts from now) not just to chronicle, but to share my experience with those who are interested in following along (thanks!)

I pulled a single card for my first intentional draw immediately following a monthly meeting with a “spiritual companioning” group I’ve been a part of for a little over a year. I focused not only on the concepts of our discourse, but also on the energy we tend to share when I drew The Sun (pictured above).

Generally, this can be a symbol of the radiance of life. More personally, I see it as a reflection of the many moments of conscious joy that my group finds together, sometimes in contrast to (but also nurturing) the heavier themes that still sprout from the dark and complex soil of our discourse, as was the case this time, but more often as the warmth and radiance that we cultivate quite naturally.

The deck’s guidebook highlights the two birds that are “free yet together, innocent yet enlightened,” and “unbound yet loaded with riches.” I am blessed to share this freedom and bounty with my loved ones, and am made much more aware of its value when so many others in the world are lacking, or otherwise when things are especially challenging for me.

I wish you all warmth and radiance, and look forward to sharing more soon.

Small Hands, Big Deeds

I’m overdue on this one, but it’s time for Round 3 of crafting a poem with my LOTR Tarot deck.

If you’d rather watch the making-of video with an audiovisual delivery of the poem (with some inspirational footage), you can click here to link to my TikTok. And if you’d rather just read the poem, feel free to scroll down.

This time I drew The Hierophant, represented by Elrond; The World, depicted by the Fellowship of the Ring; and the King of Rings, portrayed by Saruman gazing into the mystical and dangerous palantir.

As I hone this tarot-centric method of poetic inspiration, I find that researching quotations from Tolkien’s works that are relevant to each of the cards that I draw in a spread is incredibly helpful to the process. Often the featured characters themselves have some revelatory dialogue, if the themes and imagery of each card seem otherwise less catalytic.

The Elf Lord’s words at the Council of Elrond capture pretty succinctly the spirit of a party of mostly hobbits carrying the One Ring into Mordor: “Such is oft the course of deeds that move the wheels of the world: small hands do them because they must, while the eyes of the great are elsewhere.”¹

This concept informs the overall message of my poem, and if this first quote sounds familiar, you might be thinking of Galadriel’s line from the film adaptation of The Fellowship, “Even the smallest person can change the course of the future,” which was very likely inspired by these words of Elrond.

As for interpreting the tarot, The Hierophant is associated with wisdom, experience, and study as a keeper of knowledge: aptly, Elrond’s message foreshadows the other two cards in the spread, specifically mentioning “the world” and the distracted “eyes of the great.” (I was pretty ecstatic when I discovered how uncannily well that quote fit this spread.)

For The World/Fellowship card, I came across an exchange between the hobbits and Gildor, an elf featured briefly in The Fellowship novel, who aids Frodo and his halfling companions as they flee one of the Nazgûl on the road to Bree: speaking of false senses of security, he warns that “The wide world is all about you: you can fence yourselves in, but you cannot forever fence it out.”

Given the World card’s allusion to the bonds which connect us to everything, I thought this quotation an appropriate reminder of the rippling effects of great and possibly evil deeds that can still hit close to home, which ties in well with the King of Rings’ pursuit of wealth and ambition and the potential loss in the wake of seeking those results. I’m thinking specifically of Saruman’s scouring of the Shire toward the end of The Return of the King novel, and his ultimate loss to the “smaller hands” of the salt-of-the-earth Hobbitfolk.

Jumping back to The Hobbit novel, Bilbo weaves the idea of this loss and suffering into inevitable new beginnings, mentioning in the aftermath of the Battle of the Five Armies not only that, even in “Victory after all,” the conquest of war and riches still “seems a very gloomy business,” but also that, after the chaos and bloodshed, “So comes snow after fire, and even dragons have their ending!”²

The same spirit is captured in a very poignant deleted scene from the last of Peter Jackson’s Hobbit films (Battle of the Five Armies) where Bilbo, Bard, and Gandalf are taking in the carnage of the battle in Dale. When they seem ready to give up hope, Bilbo stops to plant a special acorn in the blood-soaked soil and says “That’s a promise. Under all that blood and dirt, there is a chance of new life. This may sound hopeless, it may sound foolish, but really what else can you do when faced with death, what can anyone do? You go on living.”³

Bearing in mind the words of Elrond, Gildor, and Bilbo, I set to work and and found myself with three 6-line stanzas and a final couplet. At an earlier point in the process I considered incorporating the numbers of the cards (five and twenty-one), but as the verse developed, fitting that mold became less important than doing justice to the words and the ideas themselves.

🖋️

Oftentimes, the course of deed
that moves the world’s turning wheels
is plot by hands with little need
for hoarded wealth or lordly zeal.
No greatness sought in prideful plans
can match the work of smaller hands.

Yet, while the tillage close to home
is hemmed by stone or noble hedge,
the wider world where others roam
is never far from acre’s edge.
Though hands may try to cage their doubt,
no fence can keep the whole world out.

If greater powers chase their gaze
and trample those beneath their feet
to set the wider world ablaze,
the wheels will turn on their conceit;
for under blood and ash and toil,
the smaller hands have tilled the soil,

And when the greedy shut their eyes,
the smallest from the earth shall rise.

🖋️

¹ (Elrond) J.R.R. Tolkien, The Ring Goes South, The Fellowship of the Ring

² (Bilbo) J.R.R. Tolkien, The Return Journey, The Hobbit

³ Jackson, P. (Director). (2014). The Hobbit: The Battle of the Five Armies [Film]. New Line Cinema.

If You Build It

It’s the last day of a very successful National Poetry Writing Month, and I greatly appreciate everyone who has read (and interacted!) with my posts: I feel like, just maybe, I have enough momentum to keep this “regular update” thing going! Stick around and I suppose we’ll see.

Meanwhile, my thirtieth entry for April follows NaPo’s prompt “to write a palinode – a poem in which you retract a view or sentiment expressed in an earlier poem.” I reread many of my posts and decided to revisit a triolet from the month’s halfway point, copied below for convenience:

🖋️

What point is there in trying to pretend
that walls of straw are better made than stone?
To build and rebuild houses without end,
what point is there? In trying to pretend
that wooden limbs could shelter and defend,
we mourn our loss where stronger winds have blown;
What point is there in trying to pretend
that walls of straw are better made than stone?

🖋️

Whatever metaphorical whirlwind I was caught up in for that post, another triolet seemed most appropriate for the retraction/ rebuttal :

🖋️

I’ve every faith in able builders’ hands,
no matter what materials they wield,
for straw or stone would bend to their command;
I’ve every faith. In able builders’ hands
are trusted tools and reputable plans
of artisans to whom the tempest yields.
I’ve every faith in able builders’ hands,
no matter what materials they wield.

🖋️

I definitely enjoyed this exercise in negating or questioning the theme of something I’d previously written: I think we could all stand to question our own convictions (and fictions) more often, and if I can climb over my ego— hello, fellow poets —maybe I’ll try to do so more often!

I’ve also begun experimenting with reading my poetry aloud and posting recordings for the world (wide web) to absorb and critique, so if that sounds like something you think you might enjoy, you’d be welcome over on my TikTok page: https://www.tiktok.com/@fall_of_adam (heads-up, poetry hasn’t been my primary content over there, so continue at your own discretion).

Once again, thanks to all of my readers, to the writers who I’ve been (mostly silently) stalking this month, and of course to NaPoWriMo for hosting another enchanting month! Write on, my partners-in-rhyme.