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
Thereā€™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

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

To Be No Longer Alone

I’m always uncomfortable
when first meeting women of Aspect
Afraid of what they’ll see when they look deep into my soul

I am to understand that I am very spooky
Most women of Aspect become uncomfortable in my presence
Removing themselves from the room before they even get past my eyes
Some brave souls who ventured in
but chickened out before they got too deep
And who can blame them?
After all. . .

Somehow I know
without knowing how I know
that this one is strange, beautiful
and totally protected by her naivete

Perhaps the thing that has broken the others
is the lack of innocence they bring with them
I’ve been told my mind is a circus fun house of distorting mirrors

She stands as I enter the reading nook off the main concavity of the Library
Someone has talked with her so she doesn’t offer her hand

I step back a pace
straighten my posture
lift my gaze
We eye-lock and all the hair on my neck stands
This one is not running away
She is totally present but holding herself in reserve

This has not happened before

I hear my mouth say, “What is your name?”
Her faces becomes a Hindu Mandala
A kaleidoscope of Sacred Art
An undulating universe of Sacred Geometries in collision

I can see hundreds of fractal energy collectors reaching out into the nook
curling into the surrounding quantum flux
but all staying a respectful distance from me

This has never happened before

I feel without knowing that I am becoming
a rendering of a Native American Sand painting
Something along the lines of a vortex of fire

Two complex
ever convoluting works of art confront one another
A thing I once knew as my voice says
“Why have you come here?”

Across oceans of time and wind
something like her voice says
“What is the proper way to address you?”

I say
“Speak in any fashion that pleases you.
I am fascinated with your command of Aspect.
How have you come by this level of control?”

She giggles
And that strikes me as hilarious
I laugh for the first time in a century or more
I know that our mirth is fracturing parts of the nook where we stand
and those around us can’t react fast enough to protect themselves

I weave a shielding around us before any more damage occurs
I say
“Speak.”

She says
“I have traveled far to find you. . .”
And the entirety of her different forms and the places they’ve been
plays throughout her image.

For reasons I can’t fathom
I convolute my image to show some of the places I’ve been
Some of the things I’ve created
Some of the battles. . .

She is reeling
Falling
She is frightened
She will not allow me near her

I pull back to a respectful distance

We will crash if I fail to act
I change the space we occupy
We are floating above a world that reminds me of Jupiter
But we are very far from home

I remain quiescent while she recovers

To the best of my understanding
this has never ever happened before

Her human face congeals in the center of her form
I follow suit

She says
“What are you?”

I say
“I have no idea.
And before you ask,
I have no idea what you are either.”

She says
“I always knew I’d find you
but I never knew it would be like this.”

In silence we watch the complex cloud formations
roiling across the face of the planet below
She turns to regard the stars

She says
“May I touch you?”

I say
“You may try
I have no idea if it will work or not.”

A tentative tentacle originates where her hands should be
I watch in utter fascination as it moves toward me
carried like a whisp of smoke on the currents of the Universe

It brushes my cheek
Soft as a shadow

I slip into fast time out of reflex
I see juxtaposed harmonics building within my form
and in the nick of time I change my structure to dampen
the chords building through out me

I am certain that my form has become very complex

She says
“Oh my God
Are you OK?”
and I laugh for the second time

She says
“I can tell that they are very worried.
Perhaps we should go back.”

I say
“Or we could explore the Universe together.”

She laughs and takes us back to the nook

Things look a bit singed
but no real structural damage
No one is in attendance

We return to human form
and it feels strangely comforting

I reach to touch her cheek
and she blushes

I blurt out
“I have been so alone. . .”

She places her hand over my heart
and whispers
“You need never to be alone again”

The First Snow

The first snow
A chaotic
hungry wind snakes its tendrils into my sweater

A greedy wind
that would eat every calorie of my tropical body
And having consumed every BTU i have to offer
it’d continue on
just a hungry as ever

In its windy voice
telling me a Fahrenheit tale
An intemperant little free verse whisper
Wherein i have utterly failed to slake its thirst
That my puny offering hasn’t made a degree of difference

It hurls wet leaves at my feet and pants legs
Rusty insults that can’t sick to wool

I pull my sweater closer
Fuck you old man
Not today