Courting the Courts

A poetic journey through the tarot court cards

We try to stand still but life forces our progress, step and stride and stumbling. We move along, backwards, sideways and forward and then we stand still. For a moment.

These words are a rhythm seeking to circle the Court Cards, to lasso them in as they break from one into the other. The child becomes the teen. The Queen becomes the King. They are stubbornly fixed and yet edgeless.

We begin with the Page, the fresh-eyed fawn. Or, the shoot of grass in spring. Breaking from formlessness, the Page unfurls like a question gazing into the sun. The Page could be called innocent, but they are not unbroken. They long for a story to be told. Then they rip it apart in order to create their own.

Practitioners and magic workers name the Page many things. The young, the student, the journeyer unlearned working toward master. The spirit of transition, the seeker of new, the impressionable and immature, the free and the pure. The longing to build, the curious, the vain, the unfettered mind, the force of ideas quickly strung together.

The Page is anything possible and barely dreamed of.

And they unfold.

As any path begun, forks and knives begin to appear and the Page is twisted and bent into shape. Gaining momentum and courage, the Page asserts their position and continues.

As the Page gathers power and their legs straighten, they settle into pace. They begin to assert their confidence, seeing signs of adeptness. It is then that they become a charming steed, the horse bucking with pure energy. In growing determination the Page swivels into a dynamic Knight.

The Knight is the rebellious teen. They are the defiance of the world, or the world’s limits reigning them in, turning them around. The Page thought their plans would be easy. But now, they are forced to carry out orders. This was not their plan. This was not their rule.

The Knight can obey or rebel. In a reading, the other cards around the Knight reveals whether they meet or spurn their sovereign.

The Knight is Trent Reznor, Joan of Arc, Nat Turner, Marcel Duchamp, and the hopeless romantic. They are the spirit of defiance that keeps the world in check, making strides with pain, fury, appetite, and unrest.

But they are also the hooded armsmen that fight to keep worlds held back.

The Knight is called the conflicting force, the defiant sport, the charming one, the arrogant bastard, the risk, the push, the twist, the strength, the sword. The Knight is the challenge we all must fight against. The Knight is the defiance we must embrace.

Duality is indwelling.

The battle of becoming is like the wind or the sea carving rock and shaping land. After its heavy hand, the polished stone shines with ease. There is calm after the storm. The dawn glows an orangish pink as the sun rises to greet.

It is now that we meet the time of the Queen.

The Queen is achieved, rested, and poised. Queen is proud but is so without external validation. Queen is cohesion of thought and feeling. The Queen has credence, she needs no belief.

Queen is Moon, reflecting light in darkness. Queen is solemn, magical, and serene. The Queen is a river bringing water through dirt, root, and stream. The Queen cuts through jagged rocks to bring balance with force – if need be.

The Queen is the center of the hive, the cooperation and the speaking of trees swaying and strong. The Queen is called mother, matriarch, creator, and the energy of receptivity. Queen is called the hope, the order, the life, the center, the magnet, the glue that holds chaos together. What room is there for a King?

Perhaps not enough, so the King must rise up in order to be seen.

The King is the force of initiation, high on the lead. The King will keep the peace or end ties if need be. The King decides the direction. Others must follow their creed.

The King is knowledge, the book, the vision, the plan, the stance, the position. The King is the mature adult, the boss, the father, the judge, the founder, the spark, the courage, the leader.

Rising up like a tower, the King reaches toward the sky. They are steel and structure and forceful. The King is scorched with ambition. They are the mountain, the sun, the leaves, and the winter, ending to make way for the new.

The King is the culmination of human aspiration. King are antlers grown through time and seasons. Eventually though, spires fall and ring wears off. The cycle begins again.

Through the Courts our eyes wane from new to expectant. The gaze begins soft and in time is distinct. The Courts are stages, ages, perception, and mindset. They are self, and other, becoming old and young, around and around and away again.

 

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