The ample Cups contain the Water’s flow, for Cold unites disparate kinds as one.
With Wetness they respond and overrun and, yielding, fill the emptiness below.The Queen moves like the Ocean, and relates with Others, drawing nectar from above. She nurses life with Overflowing love, and gathers food for growth she incubates.

The sharp-edged Swords divide the misty Air, whose Moisture lets them yield to outer form, but they divide and sever, for they’re Warm. With nimble strokes their edges split the hair. By Eight degrees the wheel of nature rolls; Reciprocation balances the poles.