She calls
She reads
She tells me things that she sees
I hear her fingers shuffle the
cards
Fast they seem
They seem so fast
Flipping through my cosmic future
My life to be
Yet, looking at the present with
eyes of the mind
The spirit
The soul
Her cat calls in the background
wanting to join in
Two sets, she pulls from the
sound of my voice saying stop
And she reads
She sees all that is coming my
way
Good visions and positivity
Crossroads and searching within
I listen and respect the things I
am told
For she is strong in the worlds
that she travels
I want to ask her a hundred and
one different questions
But I settle for a few
I’ve found myself wondering from
time to time
She said she spoke French as a
child
That three pieces of silvery
steel I saw standing in the sand of her artwork
The sand of her music
Came from a fire pit in the woods
not far from her home
A city of tall buildings scraping
the sky with their rooftops
She said a lot that sparked my
creativity
My imagination
The night she called and read
What the cards had to say
This poem is from my book : Petals Falling
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