The cicadas & Chariot card have aligned—
both the light horse & dark horse with sweat & taut reins—
so that what will now be will be what we will find.

With the summer arising, the spring left behind,
& the world falling parallel perfect in lanes,
the cicadas’ & Chariot’s refrain in our minds,

hear the hoofsbeat, the thorax-thrum, droning, defined,
like the march of these years & the arch of these veins—
so that what we’re becoming will be what we’ll find.

Feel the ground as it trembles with tymbal’d design,
zephyr winds from your west shaping eastern terrain
til cicadas & Chariots & tethers entwine.

Let the banners of Past & Regret that maligned
be here rent by the ritual of richer campaign
so the Then will be Then & the Now what we find!

If there’s Time, if there’s Truth, if there’s Love unconfined,
then there’s rhyme to these rhythms the world can’t restrain,
so that even cicadas & Chariots align
with the Hope that we’ll be what we always would find.