Suffer your heart’s gateway open.
Rust those blades with your tears.
May the point of luck be with you.
Smear that blood upon your cloak.
Hold fast the opening in your soul.
May your staff of will be your luck.
Spin your wheel among the stars.
Hang on dangling for the upswing.
May the luck of Jupiter shine on you.
The secret is, you’re in the center.
Let go and stand on time’s infinity.
May the smile of luck be with you.
Fill your cup with melon sweet.
Pass that heart for all to taste.
May your love’s belly be their luck.
Put your knives away, my queen.
Drink my potion to pale your blues.
May your steel luck be tempered.
Feel cold hilts in two moon hands.
Close your eyes to the point of truth.
May the balance of luck be with you.
© 2012 Joanne E. Sprott