The shimmering

Performing the readings de rigueur, I find myself distracted. I look at the cards of the Wheel of Fortune, the World, and Force at the foot of the golden Buddha, when a thought hits me: what if all resistance is nothing but a blue shimmering?

Then the translucence of light gives me another frequence: one hot, two cold. Or is it this: one unsure of itself, one balanced, and one hot as hell, but too distant in a far away galaxy? For this one I’m looking at the cards of the Lovers, Justice, and the Star.

Here comes another image of Force, Justice, and the Empress. The struggle is only as real as one’s own true justice. How delicious to know that you’re your own sovereign.

But then the formality of it. Justice, the Popess, and the Tower form a trio whose trait is the decree. The law is immutable, but when the scribe decides that justice can be less sure of itself, then this decision becomes the decree of the institution.

Did I say, shimmers? When the light takes a turn, it leaves everything either hot or cold. The blue Buddha on the golden pedestal can testify to the power of the maxim, especially the kind that doesn’t state its purpose.

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Now listen…

There are way more shimmers in What is Not, the book that busts all your perceptions of both light and dark expressions of beliefs.