Wheel of Fortune

June 2, 2018

Six Mile Cypress Slough

Only yards from the highway
the slough is silent
save for the tinkle
of the Buddha bell
on my walking stick.
The stick is hickory,
non-native, like me.
The air is green, ozonic.
Feral pigs and kingfishers
hide here.
Sacred space, sacred time
float down
on all sides.
No less a cathedral than Chartres
no votives, no hymns
only Grandmother Cypress
whispering in the wind.


Dark Goddess Tarot---Six of Earth--Tsonokwa--Kwaquitil Wild Woman of the Woods--Measure wealth by giving