High Tea
My heart cartwheeled
Inbound,
Like the white stag in a fairy tale long, long ago
And for a moment in time
It was swept into a sea of grief
Like a duckling in the king tide
Then further I went, tumbling now,
Down, down,
Into the rabbit hole,
Where Alice held high tea,
Her blue dress faded,
From a century of guests,
(Even the Cheshire Cat looked weary)
And in her hand, was a deck of cards,
The tarot,
She threw them on a Snow White floor of glistening marble,
While she smiled at me,
It was my turn, she said,
And the outcome was revealed as a star,
One like Bethlehem,
A path into a world less travelled,
Where I’ll go and change
In a split second,
A reflection of eternity,
And never die.
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