The Ghost-angel and the Dragon

There is a storm coming, but somehow its inside the house
The Ghost-angel ascends the stair case
as she has so many times before
In the silence of vapid Darkness, shadows race across the walls
She stops on the stair, suddenly somehow confused

The door at the top of the stair opens of its own volition
She resumes her ascension
She cries, trying to sob silently
So as not to give herself away

Inside the room at the top of the stair green fire dances in the place for fire
and violins are plying somewhere
The mote angels drift about the room, refusing to dance
They cast no shadows
But shadows still cavort across the walls
She says in a whisper
‘Is there any power that can make all these demons be gone?’

Something is wrestling with the grill work on the window
Something long and sinuous
Something strong. . .
The metal work gives way in a metallic shriek
followed by silence

A breeze explores the room
she stands silhouetted by the dancing flames
A dragon of silver and crimson hesitates at the door
The mote angels and walls shadows pull away
hiding in the corners

He finds her, wounded . . .
‘My Lady, are you Injured . . . ‘
She turns toward the fire without speaking
He kneels at the threshold
Not wishing to hurt her more
‘I have searched the Far Places, seeking . . . you.’
and he calls her name softly
Her name a beauty in this dark place
He holds out his fore-claw
An offer. . .

Her blackened wing stubs, thrashing . . .
Only dragon fire can sear the wings of an angel
She sobs and casts him back into the night

He wants to tell her that he is not the dragon that hurt her
But maybe she’s right . . .
Maybe all dragons are bad

He turns . . . to depart
She says, ‘Are you a monster?
What creature are you?’

He considers, ‘How can I answer true . . .
Can I . . . can this thing called I
Ever completely know itself?
Gentle one, I am no one, Nothing . . .
A molecule . . .
A moment . . .
A wave gathered from the energies of the Sea
Crashing even as it’s reforming.’

Pain and fear in her voice
she says, ‘What is your name?’

‘I have been called a many things
Elder . . .
The Archon of Light and Darkness
Life-Force Dragon
A Star-Fire Dancer who’s very touch rips the fabric of Space/Time
But these are merely titles
Words . . .
Black stains on paper
Vibrations in the air
That are whipped into the Abyss
Pointless exercises in vanity’

Silence

‘But if you wish it I will depart
I have no wish to trouble any creature
Not even those who have sought my blood
Not even those who sought my tears
I have no wish to trouble you or yours’

She sobs
Her frail body wracked with heaving regrets
It is more than the dragon can bear
Blood red fire tears gather
In the crinkles of his lid-less eyes

‘Gentle one
I would change this were it in my power
I would put my hand against the sky and turn the clouds back
I would commit the blasphemy of dancing the dance that bends Time/Space
I would walk the maelstrom that separates Past from Future
These violations and more would I do willingly . . .
Gentle one
I can not take your hurt away . . .’

St. Elmo’s Fire courses the cracks in his armor
The chinking between his scales
Energies fluxes across and around his towering form
His wings unfurl to the fullest extent of the ceiling and walls
Fire blood runs the veins of the membranes

Suddenly he folds into himself
His wings all but invisible
His eyes twin sapphire lasers
His eye cast down . . .

‘Oh
Gentle one
I have failed you . . .
You should have selected a guardian angel’

She is shaking her head no
She would touch him but is afraid
He places his mussel on the floor
All the other creatures have gone
There is only the Angel
the Dragon
and the green fire

She gently places her hand on his jaw and whispers
‘Stay here with me
And we will see what tomorrow brings’

Awaken with the Dawn

Clement
The azure autumn sky crackles
Crisp the air
Laser sharp
An undulating cyan reflection upon the gentle
silken twisting waters

The humanoid geode figure
Half in
half out of the water
Lurches

Gingerly at first but with greater urgency as the
sun ascends
Sparkling granite shot through with flecks of
mica shudders
Clefts
Ruptures
Falls away . . .

Rising from the crust of the now inert chrysalis
A pink
fresh
warm human
detaches himself from the bed of amethyst
crystal

The Tyeer
appointed watcher
gliding on the water rises
Assumes a position
Hovering just over the left shoulder of the new
mortal

“Hello Bill.
How shall we balance the day?”
“Where is everyone?”
“Already up.”

I work some of the swiftly fogging crystals lose
Hoping to hold a few of the dream sequences
Then I stand
humbled by the colors of the day
I turn
first regarding the discarded husks
of so many other awakenings
Then looking to the rim of the plateau
looking to the place in the sky
where the sun moves

Suddenly alive
I start up the hill

The Story of Spinning Lizard

Spinning Lizard was happy
Kind of a happy shinny blue
all over
A neato teal actually
Not quite blue
Not quite green
But very shinny

And Spinning Lizard was a wizard most days
(except for Thursdays
He just never got that whole Thursday thing
Not 100 % anyway)

Spinning Lizard was a poet wizard
And he loved to write incantations in the shifting sands
You could tell it was his writing
but no one every knbew exactly what he was saying

Spinning Lizard was often heard to sing
(Though most called it a squeaking)
“The whole of the World my home
And if comes the day I’m quick enough
Or smart enough
Or Magic enough to avoid the Hawk, the Snake of the Boot
Well . . . soon enough
There’d be another shinny lizard
To bask in the sun on beautiful summer days

Spinning Lizard was happy
Kind of a happy shinny blue
on a wram rock outside my window

Shadow Days

Shadow days
not quite day
not quite night

I want to really see and feel the moist grey
The lost sun
The sorrowful wind
in full measure
Because in weather like this
something about the impossibility of me
is awakened

I am
because I fight
and on days like this when the sky forgets me
in its deluge of lamentation

On shadow days like this
I most feel the fight in me

Total Super Blood Wolf Lunar eclipse January 20, 2019

Total Super Blood Wolf Lunar eclipse
January 20, 2019

The lingering memory of a January day
the sky blue as a Raven’s wing
Relentless wind, so certain of it’s destination
howling most of the day,
15mph with gusts over 25mph.

A Sunny South day
the color of Union soldiers
who died
because they never expected the South
to be so unforgivingly bitter cold

I rub my hands
Check to see if my camera is comfortable
(Christmas is truly the Season of Tripods as gifts)
Somewhere near the dawn of the Wolf Moon
the restless dragon wind settles down,
but it’s hovering in the upper 20’s

The sky
the night sky I love so much
clear
and crisp
and sharp enough to cut you

The Super Moon closer than ever
huge at the horizon
now several hands above the rim of the World

The grass I mow
Pebble and rock Zen garden darken
Stillness grows
Silence

My lady smiles
radiant
as some darkness takes an ever encroaching bite
Time, unrelenting and unapologetic
advances the dancers

Darkness eats my Lady’s face
but does not consume her fully
Bruising her instead

Reddish-purple trauma
creeping in the wake
of the invisible assailant

I busy my hands to keep them warm
I switch to my other glasses
I try to find the snack I set out
anything to distract me from her trauma

Reddening apparent early
The umbra of the Lady’s assassin
The beautiful edge of the Moon glimmering brightly
contrasting the red as it deepens

In half of my heart
I am back in the cave
Seeing all this as the wrath of Angry Gods
A Punishment deserved by absented kings and mad knights

and I am afraid

Please don’t take her form me
I know she left me to die that time
but I love her still
The indifferent stars smile toothy smiles
all the brighter in her darkening

Totality!
The Darkness of a Super Blood moon
All I can do is wait. . .

My hands are shaking

A the thinnest edge of Hope I’ve ever seen
cuts along the trailing edge of the assassin

She Heals!
All parts of my heart sing

I miss the shot with my camera
by my heart holds that image in my mind

The fever broken
the Lady convalesces in the most pure sky
I have ever known

My hands calm
My eyes make my face cold

Total Super Blood Wolf Lunar eclipse
January 20, 2019

Sand Wisdom

She lifted a cup full of sand
flecked with mica stars
glinting in the Spring sun

Poured it into my right hand
Then lifted another and poured it into my left hand
I cupped the left hand
and tried to grip the right

I lost all the sand I tried to clench