nine of wands

A lion was captured and placed into captivity in a concentration camp. He was surprised to find other lions who had been there for years, some had even been born into captivity in the camp. He caught on to the social structure of the lions in the camp very quickly. They had banded together into various groups.

One group was very social and spent their time socializing. Another was into show business and performing and kept themselves busy entertaining others. A third group was cultural in its nature and their purpose was to preserve traditions, customs and the history of the times when lions roamed free. Other groups were religious, when they gathered they sang uplifting songs about a time in the future when there would be no fences in the jungle. Some of these groups attracted people who were creative and artistic. Other groups attracted revolutionaries and they gathered to plot against their captors or against other groups with revolutionary aims. Occasionally a war would break out and one group would wipe out another or the guards would be killed and replaced by a new set of guards.

The newcomer also observed one lion, often near the fence, who always seemed to be in deep contemplation. He was a loner who kept to himself, joined no group and avoided associating with the others as much as possible. He commanded the admiration and the hostility of everyone, for his presence created fear and self-doubt among the others.

He told the newcomer "Join no group. These poor fools are busy with everything except what is essential." "And what do you think is most essential?" asked the newcomer. "Studying the nature of the fence."

~from tarot canada

beyond form

Every evening, the dragonfly lands on the Bull's horns to tell tales of her day's roaming. She speaks of wind currents and whispers of coolness riding same, where water lifts its cheek for caress. She mirthfully clicks imitations of frog song meant to lure her as lunch to lily pad. Weaving with floral color, she laces the delicate texture of subtly perfumed lotus.

Whether hovering, skipping with breezes or playing dip-your-toe tag with others, certain was the pleasure awaiting her as dusk begins slow cadence to moon hum. It's in his listening, at day's respite, she dares share. His presence delights her. She knows her joy as a hug.

Slight modulation in breath, with fly swishing tail, the Bull listens for specific airwave band. She is a sound all her own. He smiles through his chawing. Startled was he, the first time she'd lit. These were unfamiliar fractalled eyes gazing into his. They displayed rainbow facets unseen before. Iridescent in pupil and translucent wing, she paused to brush dust from them. More astonishing than her arrival, were her questions. Did she not realize, a shake of head was death knell force for insubstantial such as she.

Fazed not, she rises airborne at slightest movement on his part. First to his left, fast feint sideways, zip around, land again. Her acrobatic ability was dizzying, although now he knows it as her dance. Her being lifts him. He feels his heart grow lighter.