Tarot: The Empress
Earth pours wet, quick scimitars
Past my fingers and my knees,
My rooted feet, my crown growing stars,
My breasts that branch from budding trees.
Earth’s power engenders me.
It seeds me with moons like avatars.
I will branch out in sceptered bars
Through folds where grain, sky, body fan
(My draped robes redden patiently,
Raising the heads of tickling wheat)
The sparkled texture of a loom
That moves itself into a plan
Behind my throne. Come sit and eat.
Plume: Issue #48 June 2015