Gina

Forty times you have run with Gaia
In her mad dash around our Solar Disc.
Your dark hair waving in the wind
Has electrified the night with
The possibility of Desire.


With cards and stones and incantations
And a loving heart
You pull the mysterious future
Into the present…. for a moment.


Laying aside the tools of your prescience,
Placing your hands on the task before you
Your gaze pierces the four points of the compass
And sees in the world
The treasure you hold in your heart.