poem / all in the cards

the weight of my world
was held in her delicate hands
as she shuffled the deck
while speaking in a language
so easy to understand
despite coming
from someplace outside of time
and as i waited anxiously
cards began to spill out
splashing on her table
somewhat randomly
but she only smiled sweetly
and picked them up
one by one
to arrange in a pattern
that told a story
as if reading my mind
as if seeing my soul
with crystalline truth
exposing each facet
to the light of day
and when she was through
it was all i could do
to hold those pieces
together.