Midnight at the House of Fountains

By on 1-27-2017 in Journal, Tarot Wayfarer

Midnight at the House of Fountains

Journal Entry: Midnight at the House of the Fountains

The white tiger is asleep upon the staircase and all is quiet other than the constant sound of the fountains, arrayed without number in the eternal courtyard outside my chambers.

It is several months since I returned, yet I know not how to speak of all that I have seen, all that I have come to believe, and all that I have changed.

There is a place beyond this world where all that you can imagine has become real, and the self that you imagine you could be become real.

There, they speak the language of symbols, the language of Tarot.

It is what you have already learnt for so long, but such a speech that will change your life – open gateways of perception that look through time and space as if they were but shadows of reality.

At the end of my seeking, I found it, there all along.

It is a world of an infinite journey that takes place in an everlasting day. There are two great Lodges, that of the Rose and that of the Key, and they preside over this place in an endless war that creates all reality.

Such are the mysteries of that world, they defy description. There is a door hidden, it is between the two pillars.

It is a world of twelve realms, and a road of mystical gates that threads between rivers that create time itself. In the centre, there is a ring of mountains that encircles a vast spring, a place of fountains and waterfalls, where the hours and minutes cascade into reality. There the Ancients built a Well, an artifice of divination that captures the twelve rivers of Temporalis.

A black and white gate, each to a Goddess, stand there timelessley, guarding the mysteries.

Such wonders, such journeys await. I have returned, yet I already must return, for this world holds no treasures such as I have experienced.

It is like a glass that has become clear – for the first time my life holds meaning, and the beauty of the divine world has unfolded itself to me through the tears of the past, all my suffering was vanished in a blink, confusion dispelled like the mist of an early morning before the sun of the day.

And such a day, where the heavens are laced with the choirs of angels, the land is full of bounty beyond measure, and all that we recall is perfect.

There are courts in those realms, rich with nobility. There are Knights who quest for epic rewards and Pages who serve beyond any call of duty. There are Kings and Queens of whom legends will be written, and their lives are those we all would live.

There are Fools and Judges, Towers that fall from infinity and bodies that rise into eternity. How I wish that words would capture but a fragment of all that I have seen in my wayfaring.

There is a place beyond this world – and its name is Arkartia.

It is a place where the Arcana Way leads to a truth that can be grasped, a secret that can be revealed, a mystery that is your very soul – I will write more. I will …

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