The King of the Wood lies broken beneath the shadow of the King. Long live the King.
The King of the Wood lifts the crown from the body of the King. Long live the King.
Spring is coming.
The barbed vine coils about my cheek and brow with welcome pulsing slither. The long spines stretch from my fingernails, finger length, piercing glitter-gloaming. The taste of light on leaf swims in my veins.
Claws to catch the soul, and hooks to bind. Debt to self of guide for deaf and blind.
I trace the lines of the mask which names me. Behind my eyes once more burn conflagrations.
Spring is coming.
weird white, almost-light, forever-black, never-black
vibrant white, arrows bright, silent flight, goddess night
bathe me in the world-thrum, the bow-thrum, the soul-hum
huntress, pierce me with your night-sight glow of benediction
COMMENTS
post-script
A comrade and I, within the undignified context of a game of scrabble, were once asked to define OM. After glancing at each other, we responded simultaniously: he with the eloquently summative "The love and presence of God," I with something somehow different, "The echo of what is."
When all is quiet, listen.
that gave me such an excellent deep sigh...thank you
And it still does
COMMENTS
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Joli
09:47 Nov 09 2024
" The taste of light on leaf swims in my veins"
LiamK
18:35 Nov 09 2024
obviously The Golden Bough was on my mind at the time
maybe I'll share about those last three lines sometime. it was a long time ago. I wouldn't be sure how to start.