Naipes or tarot or fortune cookie,

I scour the scry of my heart

for news of you, beloved.



I read you like a story

in the reflective looking glass

of life’s mirror.


For me you fashioned new cards

and each night

cast a spread.


Wisdom flowed through your hands

from invisible realms,

so naturally.


You saw deeper even

than I could,

deep inside

the holographic heart

of Tao itself.


You saw deer whispering through the dark pines;

you saw a shooting star

falling over Coeur D’Alene Lake,



Now I am still waiting

for the future

that was foretold,

the one

of you.


You know me.

I am

an insatiable reader

waiting for this love poem

to be written

and hoping

it will never end.