I drew the Seven of Coins today. It was really disturbing. Almost called you to tell you…
..that our love was false. this card is always called “failure”. the coins are lead. fake. no wealth. no investment.
Failure is the name of the card and program for its downfall, and so the Seven of Disks talk of hopes deceived and crushed, of unfilled promises, loss of fortune, dealings that first sounded good but later revealed as short-living or cheating, false successes with no lasting benefit, that in the end had cost much more than they had gained.
but it was juxtaposed next to Three of cups. that is what threw me. The Three of Cups is the one true love. the rare love. the love that passes all understanding. the One. this card can’t lie, can it? it always means “this is the one”. but here, like the deer who was stuck in the winter ice, only to be found finally released in the spring thaw, long dead, bloated, frozen and thawed.
I guess the first card had already pierced my heart: Ace of Swords. Clarity. Realization. That it was always there, always germinal in this daily charade, the kernel of truth, constantly covered with the illusionist’s palm.