Scenes from a longer tale

I've got a tale brewing in the cauldron of my mind and if I tuck it away in corners like I normally do then maybe I'll never share it, so it's going to leak out here.

I make no promises about what is to unfold or how this may evolve, but this is a tale that is yet to be. 

Imagine that I've laid out a thick cloth marked with circles within circles within lines like rays. I pull staves of apple wood with rune like symbols from a small pouch and cast them over the cloth.

They fall in patterns that slowly resolve into visions, glimpses of the future. 

The future is malleable, we weave our thread across our little part of it, adding to the overall pattern. Often our choice of threads is limited, and it's hard to change the pattern entirely from halfway through a design. But sometimes we pick a thicker thread from those we're offered, one of a colour that will influence the final tapestry, with dye that bleeds over into the ones that touch it. And sometimes there are threads that change everything they touch, that shimmer and offer the chance for a new pattern entirely, if we only say yes to what is possible. 

The visions in the apple staves tell of one such shining thread...

Poem: Fool

0: Fool

As long as I wore the glamour
I could fool myself
that I would never fall.

The daydreamer's mantle
protects one from being taken seriously,
you know?

Some day, not long,
it grows heavy with the weight
of misunderstanding.

The fall is inevitable,
it is only the manner of landing
which is in question.

From Showing My Hand

~ Autumn Equinox 2017

My first collection of poetry...

XVII: Star

Tell me,
my dreams,
which of you are true?
Which celestial spark points North
and leads me to my cave,
my court,
my stage?
And which is the lighthouse,
warning of the shallows
where sirens live?
Where do the rivers
of sleep lead?

~ Autumn Equinox 2017

Find my original post of this and more of my other writing and projects here!

Poem: For Mari

Moonlit Mari, 

 of the white ocean foam, 

 hoof beats riding, 

 carrying me home. 

Light in the darkness, 

 bright against night sky, 

 spinning like a Sufi, 

 as your laughter flies high. 

Moonlit Mari, 

 in the fullness of your prime, 

 blessed voice ringing, 

 through all space and time. 

Halloween Musings

Deep magic this time
Through Samhain flames
But pumpkin light
Holds Glitter and games.
Transforming through play,
To balance dead ones named,
With sparks of sugared-light.
A kiss of whimsy
Communities share
In the spirit of wonder at play.
It cracks the edges
Of sophistication
For Sophia herself to return
Eldest Sister
Youngest Soul
Through laughter grows.
We slip our skins
Masked, bedecked
In our true faces
Or one to try...
For a night the veil thins
Between what is proper
And what is allowed
And the child-spirit within
us can spread it's wings once more...
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The New World Floods - Draft

Somewhere across the pond
Two winds meet
Water rises over edges
Defined for so long as forever
The New World floods

We worry, this side
Powerless against power
So vast dictating what shall be
Lives upturned
The New World floods

Thinking we are atop the chain
The peak of nature
We forget and are reminded
Of Her dominion over us
As the New World floods

Many places have met Ocean
Within my memory
Each time sending ripples
Through our comfort
As their world floods

How can we do other
Than what we do
Even seeing how fragile
Solid ground is
As our world floods.
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Songstress

Sifting through journals, uncovering memories, hopes, lists of ideas that just might form a ladder to carry me from the muck I felt mired within... I find poems, songs, snippets of beauty and moments of experience stored in rhythm and rhyme. Pieces of time in shapes that tell tales of myth mixed with the mundane. When I don't write stories... I am songwriter.

How many roles do we keep hidden from ourselves? Things we do that we forget, deny, disbelieve?

What shall come of this?

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