The Land of Magic


Image from “The Book of Shadows: The Lost Code of the Tarot”, Andrea Aste, 2010, Berith & Brimstone.

The Land of Magic – that is where they were both from. Glitter and gold – that’s who they were! Under the Magic Umbrella – so many ideas, so much to see, so much to do. And so little time! Music – that was the thing! They needed music! And dance – they needed to dance to the music!

So they danced – they became part of the music, and the music became part of them. They moved faster and faster, and the world flowed around them. Masks were put on, masks were taken off. Shadows became shadows – reality became uber reality.

(c) April 2017 Bonnie Cehovet
Reproduction prohibited without permission of the author.

The Fool


From the “Daniloff Tarot” (Third Edition, 2016) by Alexander Daniloff.

It is not so easy to be a Fool, you know. It took me a lifetime to fine tune the skill. I had to learn to trust myself, and my instincts. I had to learn to be free. I had to believe that I had potential – that i could actually do all of the things that I dreamed of. Now that I have learned all of this, I know the shocking truth – that to maintain who I am, I have to hide my abilities from the world. I can only show small pieces at a time – then I need to pull back.

(c) March 2017 Bonnie Cehovet
Reproduction prohibited without written permission from the author.

The Mirror


From the “Tarot of Transformation”, by Willow Arlenea and Jasmin Lee Cori (Weiser Books, 2002).

Jonathon walked slowly, enjoying the brisk morning air. He was aware of the colors of the leaves, the sense of solidness of the trees, the stillness that was occasionally broken by the sound of birds singing. This for hm was the “in-between” time.

He and Ellie often walked this path – it was their quiet time together. Today Ellie had stayed home – it was not a good day for her. She did not have that many days left. No one had told them that – it was simply her time. They both knew that.

Jonathon walked on, surrounded by peace.

(c) November 2016 Bonnie Cehovet

Reproduction prohibited without written permission of the author.

The Quiet Speak For Themselves


Image from The Magdalene Legacy Tarot – Lost Keys of the Madona, Casey DuHamel, 2013, Grail Quest Press.

She always worked in the background. Some did not understand her, some feared her, some felt that she was a blessing in their lives. She observed life, and understood more than she let on. She was quick to take action when needed, very determined and strong willed.

She would be the undoing of some with her keen perception. She would be the cornerstone for some, with her honesty, and her ease of communicating.

Never acting in haste, she could make or break any situation. Her network was a large one, and I was blessed to be partof it. She will be misssed.

(c) October 2016 Bonnie Cehovet
Reproduction prohibited without permission of the author.

The Story Book


Books all tell stories, don’t they. This book tells the story of my great-grandmother – at least I think that it does. Oh, I am sure that my great-grandmother wrote it. What I am not sure of is how it reflects her life. It is the story of her garden, during the year before my grandfather left her. What kind of pain caused her to blank her mind, refuse to leave her house, and put all of her energy into this beautful garden?  If plants could talk – and surely they can – we would know the real story.

(c) July 2016 Bonnie Cehovet

Reproduction prohibited without written permission of the author.



You Can’t Get There From Here

“You can’t get there from here.” I stared at the lady, who had just informed me that the streets I was asking about were not in this town. Then she had asked me what my destination was.

“You need to go to Bend, which is about twenty-eight miles from here. Take a right out of the parking lot, another right at the corner, and another right at the light. Then keep going for about twenty-eight miles, until you reach Bend. Take this street, and you will run right into US 20.”

I thanked her, and got back in my car. So much wasted time, time spent being lost, on  this trip. Now I felt that I could actually get there from here!

(c) Nvember 2015 Bonnie Cehovet

Reproduction prohibited without written permission of the author.

The Black Rose

flash fiction

Every year, on this day, one black rose was delivered. It brought the pain back, but it also was meant as an encouragement for life to go on. Misha had known that the separation would be final at the time – he was dying, and she had to move forward. He did not want her touched by the things that had brought him down. So this day, each year, she accepted the black rose, and wrote in her journal. The beauty of this rose touched her, and always would. They were part of each other, and this would never change.

(c) September 2015 Bonnie Cehovet

Reproduction prohibited without the written permission of the author.