I stood as a tree

Dropping . . .
Falling . . .
Somewhere below the quicksilver
surface of consciousness
Leviathans stir the oceanic waters
of the sleeping mind

The movement of their mass
ripples the tenuous film of awareness
And fragments the sea
into a mosaic of swaying reflected images

Shadow soft healing touches
on my face
Water droplets
on fresh green leaves

Gentle caresses
Velvet whispers
the breeze across the waters

I stood as a tree
on the mountain side
Seeking only
the sun’s golden glow
Drinking light
through silvered leaves
Drinking water
through a thousand hidden roots
Moving only
to dance with the Wind

Glacial
Geologic
Everlasting

A Dragon and a Fire Angel Turn up in a Bar ~ D’l Kyrug

The Silver dragon says
“And so fair fire-angel
what has happened to your wings?”

“They got stuck in the gates
whilst I was trying to escape the forbidden gardens of desire”

“Hon, that has got to hurt
Not unlike the time I got my tail caught
in the tilt-o-whirl of love”

Nodding agreement the fire angel remains silent
swimming deep currents of memory in her thoughts

The Silver Dragon stamps his foot
shouts, “The Service in this place leaves a lot to be desired
Can”t a dragon get a drink in this dump?”

The fire angel turns towards him, eyes lowered
and hands him a silver mug with potent red wine
He looks confused but takes the proffered cup with appropriate reverence
and mumbles something in dragon
“You are One So Rare
most hallowed and revered. . .
When did you start tending bar?”

But out loud he says
“Thank you m”Lady
and may the day of your healing be hastened”
then he breaths fire across the beverage
The vapors spill over
Cause a fog to rise around all the patrons of the place
Most don’t seem to care
and the rest are smart enough to know better

He drinks deep
as only dragons are prone drink

Alive, the Breaking of Day ~ D’l Kyrug

Sunrise
or is it only the fever speaking to my sickened mind?

Sunrise
in tired eyes
and mist covers the lake
as shivers take my body once again

Choirs of angels
chorus of demons
deep harmonics of infrared and razor sharp ultraviolets. . .
Rainbows dance in the coming sun
I am weary
bleary and. . . strangely alive

Hands?
Yes. . .
Legs?
Oh yeah. . .
Let’s just sit here a bit

Darkness
holding on to my back
slipping around behind me
at the speed of dark
leaving its roots in shadows on me

Daybreak pours across the Face of the East
Golden liquid honey
cascading into my face, hands and
soul
Night retreats to the West

Oddly. . .
The cool of the Darkness
adds to the comfort of the Dawning Light

Balance

A glistening, glittering spider’s web touches everything
An array of light and shadow. . .
and somehow beyond understanding
I am alive

Alive!

T’alcydon – Teacher of Metamorphs

T’alcydon is a very clever . . .
Well he’s a dragon at the moment
In this particular pocket ‘verse called Easalin
T’alcydon can be a very clever teacher
a very clever Rukesayer

Mentor/tormentor
of the young Metamorphs
the young Tyros
He has walked the Seven pathways
Has Spoken the one True Tongue
Has known the whip of Light
and the Ice of Darkness

T’alcydon knows
That not all actors are metamorphs
But all metamorphs are actors
Knows that the problem of the metamorph
Is that you never really know
your own True nature
Never really know
if you’re faking
He Knows
That young metamorphs
are the most dangerous

He knows this
And loves them . . .
every one

Just before waking

Just before waking
the phoenix chased the dragon
across my bedroom ceiling

demon roar and angel laugh
each hurts equally

Just before waking
the sun went round the moon
across my bedroom ceiling

fire burns and ice bites
each hurts equally

Just before waking
i called your name . . .

We, the damned, are so pleased with your services

Oh and one last thing
before the event horizon completely forms
I have a message for you
from somewhere inside . . .

“Thank you.
The creature known to you as Bill
has been returned to his chaos box.
We never could have entrapped him without your help.
After all he was going too far
we all know this.

The part where you let him think
he was making progress . . .
and then when he dropped his defenses
smacking him in the face,
now that was inspired.
Several of our number have expressed a desire
to study any notes on technique
that you might care to forward.

We couldn’t have done better ourselves.
Your services in this respect
will be compensated with thirty pieces of silver
delivered to your doorstep sometime around midnight.

Please know that we, the damned, are so pleased with your services
that we may contact you in the future
if the need arises.
Again thanks.”