The Four of Wands

I sit sentinel in the darkness, a stealth of shadows wrapping themselves about my knees, the silence of the hallway blanketing my form, sheltering me in the gathering shades. The dimness envelops my body as I wait for the power to come, and I sink back into the calm and peace of this eternal place that I have come to love.  I close my eyes gently against the scene, and the noise of the silence arises around me and carries me away, through an unseen window, before I have even stood from my chair. I alight upon a distant windy hilltop and am looking into a long valley ahead of me. I can see four riders, each carrying lighted torches, seated upon horses, galloping in a square formation. Four torches held high in the darkness, four lights bearing them through the starry velvet night as they journey into the unknown, bound together by their united vision, each working individually for the combined power of all. I admire the way that they are riding together, each separate, but yet joined within their separateness, free and together, individual and in company, each held by the strength of their inspired thought. I watch them as they disappear into their future , and I return to the ancient elm chair, the seat of my ancestors, and I wait.

The power comes, as it always does, and I rise once again, stepping out onto the polished stairs with my bare feet, walking slowly, each step that I take bringing me closer and closer towards the place that I am heading, a place unknown and unseen but remembered in my heart.

I stand at the door, and with the memory of the four horsemen still in my mind, I pass through the red and green banner that proclaims The Four of Wands, and walk into a hilly landscape, much like the one that I have just visited. It is daytime here , and I see that the hills are green but also arid, and I can see four figures running through the lowlands ahead of me; they are dressed in the attire of ancient Sparta, and they are women. They run through the difficult terrain, warrior maidens, goddesses of battle, demonstrating their athletic prowess, practicing their tactics and exercises; they travel as one, but also as individuals, much like the horsemen that I saw earlier. They bless the landscape with the power of their beauty and the grace of their movements, united and moving as a single entity, they are at the peak of their powers.

The place where I am standing, is thick with cypress trees, and I feel that these stately and noble creatures have a meaning, and I remember that they contain the key which can thread together the elements of healing and death, light and darkness, wisdom and woe. They speak to me with their heavy darkness ad stately mien, and they tell me that after darkness comes light, after pain comes rest… and that they are the symbols of this, the protector of souls that travel in shadowy  places.

Still watching the warrior women, I move forwards,  I carry on walking until I reach some kind of promontory, a walled area, similar to that which I found in The Three of Swords. It looks out over a deep ravine, and the women are with me now, discussing how they will descend the steep incline into the valley bottom below. This will not be done now however, and they lay their plans aside for the future, as they set towards making a fire. Three of them have removed their helmets, and I see now with a sharply dawning awareness, that they all wear my face. Emotion wracks my body and tears at my lungs, as I see the women of my past, and my tears course upon my cheeks as the memories of my heart spill into the present. I see myself as a very young woman, virgin still, the innocence lying on my cheeks like roses at midsummer, oh how I remember her sweetness, her hope and her fear. Long gone is she… a vague memory…bleached by the sun and indistinct. The second one, I remember vividly; strong and powerful is she in her physicality, no task too daunting, she could set herself to any work she chose. I see her now with the wiser eyes of age, and I see how she was fooled by those far weaker than her brave and loyal heart. Oh to have her strength of body again, I remember the power coursing through my veins, the uprising of eternity in my soul, the chikdren I woukd have died for to protect. The third woman looks as I do now, she is watchful and she waits, she has learned the wisdom that considers, the power of silence, the strength of stillness. I am she, and I have learned…I am learning still. The fourth woman is masked yet, for she is death, and I will not unmask her just now. Her time will come though, I see her outline, I am aware that she will wait for me…. she will call my name when the hour comes, and that we will walk together for a time, before she leads me into the darkness at last. We sit in the circle together, and each of the women tell their stories of how battles were won and how foes were vanquished; they sit and tell the stories of my life, the strength of independence that I have won, the joys of life, the scream of battle, the pain of birth, the laughter of children,  of the warrior goddess that I am. As I hear back the stories that they tell me, of my life, I feel strengthened by them, and recognize that the path that I have walked has not been easy, and that ultimately I walk alone, we all walk alone, for we are all warriors of our own hearts.

I feel a strong sense of peace descending on me, and as the sun finally sets and the stars come out, I feel a wholeness in this place, a sense of arrival, rather than one of departure; all is contained here, there is nothing else, and all will spring from this place, this gathering of power. The scene fades today, there is no clarion call, and I find myself once again, in the Hallway of Beginnings., waiting for the images to fall from me like starlight.


The 4 of Wands
Venus in Aries
10 degrees to 20 degrees of Aries
The Lord of Established Strength

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