Tarot: 8 of Wands

 (c) 2/2026

Eight wooden staves, with spring growth nodes—

none whittled into spear points—

fly across your path, quick and chaotic,

an imprecise mirror of your thoughts. Who knows

whether you have the discernment to catch

any, if not all?

 

Some may think they will form a fence

or be used to strike a foe—

but each staff is utility itself.

 

I once took four, along with burlap and rope

and made a message board at summer camp.

We posted gratitude, gossip, and duties.

I once peeled the bark and carved figures into it

like love letters swapped with my friends.

I used one for a macrame wall-hanging.

 

With good soil and water, the staves

could be replanted, grown into a grove.

With kindling and matches they will warm us for a night.

 

Don’t believe the staves may only be used as weapons.