Arbor; or Portrait, with Four of Cups

"...you are not as heavy as the cup of earth, 
not placid as is the cup of water, not 
turbulent as is the cup of air..." 
                   ~ on the Four of Cups, Rider Tarot



In the card, the man seated crisscross 

under a tree wears a mildly petulant 

expression. A hand emerges out of a cloud, 

offering a draught from a golden chalice. 

In the foreground, three other cups in a row 

might mean he's already drained them. Did he 

not like the flavor in any? Does he no longer 

care for the offer of another chance? Under

its tunic waistcoat, the tired heart looks  

for the hinge in every conflict, the signs

saying it's time to push out the long skewers 

that have turned it into nothing but a plump 

pincushion. Just look outside: someone has raised 

an arbor, started to deck it with flowers and fruit.