The sun set this evening in a blaze of pinkish coral and sherbet orange outlining the cottontail tufts of the sky high thunder clouds … the ghost trails were more distinct than I have seen them in many moons … hot white traces of memories the Summer has yet imagined while spinning in the dew cuddled rain … eyes closed … all smiles … not caring if we fell in the mud or forgot our way home for a time … the sky was that which childhood has daydreams about when it cannot react to hearing Mother calling it’s name … it is too lost in the beauty in the pureness the butterfly must know all too well … and those of us who have been lucky enough to love from the bottom of a hungry belly cling to when we sleep alone one more night … at times I trace the cloud edges with my fingertips … other times with my mind’s eyes … on days like this, however, the gods do this for all of us … we are all favored in the Light and in the Love which originates from the collective … Sweet and Bright Blessings Brothers and Sisters of Spirit … I must sleep. 9 more words
Tags » Utterances
The edge of the bamboo grove is still the eye of the storm spinning roulette in my crown caravan wheels … I sit on Tara’s throne in the cup of a lotus blossom and wait … it has been two thousand years since my oath was taken … it has been only six days since the last battle was waged … my wounds are healing … the rainbow comes each morning to nurture me in the colors given by the master of creation … at times there are seven shades … at others seventy hues of the heavens … yet, more warriors than not can only perceive The Absence or The Light … I soak in the Rain of the Father who brought these children … his Bride nurses my wounds with her herbs and spittle … All is silent in this glimpse beyond witnessing … my construct of sheltered shamelessness … where the voices of the atmosphere are all one hears … until it is time again to listen for the whimpering of battle … to engage … until slightness perceives a wrestling along the lines of demarcation … between peace and those who cannot surrender their slit soaked war … I am honorably armed and thus, I rise to bear the sword of my soul once again … blood thirst emotion not yet mastered … my humans unable to lie down the spear and saber even when the helpless slaughtered can be seen … I seek them beyound the gates of illusion … their Nirvana hidden in the storm clouds the bamboo grove swirls beneath … I face the Void wuxia as was the Buddha.
The sun cast repentant closing day shadows … across the window panes of the Library of Alexandria … the fields of river blessed inundation … the black betwixt amber caught … craving soaks the mud red bank where in desire holds her icy breath … clay clouds bank to the horizon pressing pursed against the plains false claim to be hillsides … merely masking dreams with hope hampering joy … of a sign, a symbol scrawled in Earth … that there is a promise land out out beyond this pale painted hint … open hearts make mauve and rosey pallor petal dreads bleed red … beating brandish strikes at Summer songs that dare rejoices in … on the mountain top. 6 more words
In the East there lies a Mountainside … drawn and rigid against the meadow daughter it shades from love until the noon of day … Dawn sleeps there in his arms … her warmth and light contained by the pitch of his ebony arc … as he tucks her to his belly and shelters beloved nest from Night’s cold lust … In the day when she is flying, ever on copper wings, he scavenges for golden trinkets to bind about her fingers and wrists … tattooing her with the molten metal alchemy of his love … when once again the starlight can be heard approaching the borders of mortal memory and order … she relents and is enfolded again in his strength. 6 more words
Winter words have been elusive lots … jumbled time tumbling bronzed locks … tethering heartbeats to your memory … bell ship bound in some sunken grave of grey ground … and feather down dullard dreaming cartilage cast spinning on the ice … frozen fronds waiting for the spring thaw … like ancient love letters tucked in the cracks of a wishing wall … to return to the dust you blew through those hollow haunts … I kept the wine from freezing between my thighs … though they were rosy enough in the beginning with out currants and lavender to share their spice … it will be a good year to uncork the secrets we stained so many a moment with … let the butterflies drink all they will and carry you away on drunken wings … that sad or silken sorrows shall visit no more the cobwebs or the broom. 6 more words