Enter the sword bearer amid the group of seven,
Faces obscure in the human crowd,
cast into the foreground of an illusionary altercation
Oblivious to the background of the burning setting sun
Relentlessly falling toward a bloody battle field ....
Enter the beleaguered seven dressed in white,
Triumphant heroes of a child’s bed time tale,
Relentless opposition to the elusive seven in black
Who they never visually see,
but who’s spells they diffuse ...
Magnificent sagas written in the pagan tablets
Fearless mages cast on earth amid the prisoners,
there to save the mortals before the approaching flood ...
And they need you, the child’s help, so very much,
Your imagination focussed on their card ... on their shape
To hold it together ... tightly ... as it spins out here in space
Amid the desires and the compulsions for it to stop
and drop like a stone into another parallel reality ...
or of their faces ... or of their names ...
It has been chosen you know only of them as the seven and the sword
A band of white atop a rock,
amid an ocean of the oily confusion
of an artist’s abstract landscape ...
Mere motes in the pigments of the oil,
Hidden within the fabric of the picture
A necessary tension which holds all of reality together
Under the approaching orb of terror ...
At me the writer, the scribe ... the artist ...
For while I hold your attention, you give harmony to them
Your imagination is on their plight within the story
And behind you the juggler keeps in perfect time with your thoughts,
His juggling balls swinging like the pendulum,
which draws the rainbow from out of the sky ...
And though you sit amid the raging seas,
Know the seven in white keep the torrent away from you
by dispelling the urge of the banshee which raises that storm
and child you are most surely safe now .... for the nightmare is close to an end.
And towards you, one of the seven ...
The nameless one who bears the sword,
Gazes and holds a warm smile on her face
For you she has the deepest respect,
for in your soul you know her name,
but even during the most testing of interrogations,
you refused to divulge that name to the seven in black ...
Those faceless demons who come to you in the nightmare
Who steal into your dreams and entice you with their sweet words ...
“Tell us what you know”, they say,
“Tell us what you know of the chosen seven,
For we seek their hiding place,
and we know you can lead us there ....”
For you the lady bears a smile,
the first smile to touch her mane in ten thousand centuries
But know she did this for you .... and she is eternally indebted to you
For the wondrous service you gave,
Playing your part in the banishment of the seven in black,
The shadow’s champions who fought the seven in white so hard ....
ready to sleep ... you see the key of life,
a symbol of gold made from the rainbow’s tears,
for know the juggler grants you one wish,
and that is to become in control of your life
So as you sleep, child, wish well,
dream well and sleep well
for know the phantoms have left your dreams
You may grow now into the adult you were meant to be
No longer troubled by the shadow,
no longer controlled by the stealer of your dreams ....
Live in peace now mankind,
for the seven of white shall attain their goal
You know their names, but refuse to reveal that fact to the shadow
Mankind you are no longer the child ...
Move on .......
Written by Matthew James
Inspired by the tarot images of THE SERVANTS OF THE LIGHT tarot ....
4 of spheres, 8 of weapons, user of spheres, user of weapons, The Emperor & 6 of weapons
