THE MAGICIAN

THE MAGICIAN

In the Magician's right hand is a wand raised toward heaven, the sky or the element æther, while his left hand is pointing to the earth. This iconographic gesture has multiple meanings, but is endemic to the Mysteries and symbolizes divine immanence, the ability of the magician to bridge the gap between heaven and earth. On the table in front of the Magician the symbols of the four Tarot suits signify the Classical elements of earth, air, fire and water. Beneath are roses and lilies, the flos campi and lilium convallium,^[a] changed into garden flowers, to show the culture of aspiration.

-       Wiki.

Pink is the world and the air cooled from the rain. The clouds in the distance race quietly across their backdrop, dispersing, forming, and falling apart in increments. Gone are the snow and the ice laden valley. Gone is the winter fox watching from the summit in the snow bedazzled morning near the purlieu. I wonder whatever became of him. Sometimes a flock of birds falls across the view, way out there beyond roofs, but they are not falling they are flying with such grace that it is who they are, - there is no I, - just the movement. That is how we are at our best. And then we remember. Some guttural sound, - a distant plane, marking mankind’s way. I never found or really looked for a Tarot deck- perhaps I have let that go. Yet I think of the brightness of the cards, - blue and yellow and white- I like those- and maybe the Sun, and maybe the Moon, and maybe some others. I wonder what card I would draw if I could draw one. Perhaps I shall pull a free on line card, or something like that, - and name this that. Just a moment. (the Magician).

The branches and leaves of trees sway a bit in the post-storm winds. I think of sand for some reason- and little bits of seaweed, or small vessels upon the water. Puffer fish, trigger fish, barracuda, piers, wooden planks, the mid-1980’s head shops and the Publix even, - marked green, with a water fountain in front. The intercaostal is back there,- and the mechanical bridge by the dive shop and the small hardware store goes up- wonderful, interesting, but such a perhaps normal thing for the year-round residents. The motels are mostly white but some are stucco painted pastel green, even an odd light orange or green. Pools, the idea of silver in the sun for some reason, and that smell…the smell of lotion and laughter if laughter had a smell, the smell all mixed together of the salt air and the t-shirt store, of newness and coolness amidst the good and hot and right days.

Pure  living magic then, or another way to look at it…the world so magically infused or the living universe so magic that nothing like what is thought of as magic, intuition, manifestation, conjuring, et cetera, et al.- was needed.

Everything was the dream alive.

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