Behinjari and I

I am a demigod in training
and have a name but can never say it
I only know it when I am called

In the rainy days of heaven
we often seek entertainments and distractions
and having tired of several kinds of argument
I begged Behinjari to spar with me

Not often given to such amusements
he at last relents
Several of our number gather
for he seldom engages in the contact sports

He toys with me and every time I advance
he moves like water
moves like wind
and he is suddenly behind
in front of
nowhere near me

I go through the dance the third time
and decide to put a little spontaneous variation
in my movement
I lunge at him when anyone would expect me to pull away

And he is not there
he is no longer anywhere
Everyone gasps in surprise

I laugh
but it turns into a troubled sound
I call for him to come out and show himself
Everyone looks about uncomfortably

I ask everyone to help look for Behinjari
and we look behind the clouds
we look below the seas and beyond the stars
we look under the mountains and within the hearts of the stars
we look between the moments and across the time after time

We look till we are exhausted and spent
I stumble while climbing back up the hill and feel something
funny inside me when I lurch
I call the others to the hall and ask them to watch me closely

I go through the dance a forth time
and pull a spontaneous movement
as I land
I lunge to the left
as he is lunging to the right
and there he is
He has been hiding inside me all this time

We all laugh till we cry

the reality of the sky-eyed child

i met a child on the road
that runs beside Parnassus

and we had conversations about all the animals
the way waters run downhill
and the way the sun plays with the moon

later that day a man came up the path
the man began to scream and stamp his feet
the man challenged the child
and called the child all manner of fowl and vile names

i tried to comfort the man
but he would have none of it
i put my hand on the man’s shoulder
and i saw that where the child stood there was a demon
i jumped away
and where the demon stood there was a fearful child

the man started toward the child and i hit the man
i did my best to deter the man but he got past me

the child picked up a stem of grass
and stuck the man

the man was grievously hurt
and he lay on the ground writhing

the child was very upset and crying

i shouted
“Why did this happen?
Why did he see you as a demon and i see you as a child?”

i did my best to tend the man’s wounds

the child came to us then
and lay his hand on the man’s head

the man drooped and i thought the child had killed him
but the man was asleep and dreaming
his breathing was regular and his face at peace

i looked into the sky-eyes of the child
i asked “Will he die?”
the child replied “Not today.”

there ensued a silence
not unlike the silence between the stars

again i asked
“Why do i see you as a child
and he saw you as a demon?”

the child sighed a sigh
centuries old
then said
“I am reality
and humans see me as they want me to be.”

and i wept
for my own stupidity and carelessness
but the child touched my arm and said
“You may not see me for all that I am
but you see me for the good I do.
Between you and him
I much prefer your interpretation.”


She blushes
turns to face the winter window
“It will be spring soon. . .
How shall i ever find my way back into the sun?”

I lift my hand
a show of humble supplication
“I was wise once
Seems like forever ago. . .
But some things are not to be known
Least of all the means by which water finds its way into the sky
after falling in darkness
There can be no knowing of the script
a tender burgeon remembers not
the ‘how’ of being a flower
How can she know how
to be a flower she’s has never been. . .”

She walks to the light beyond the window’s pane
Sighs a silence ages old
“You poets know nothing but lies. . .”

She has become a shadow in a halo of light
I turn to look past her, out the window

“Then breathe your love into my lies
That they might transcend this humble page. . .”

She says

In dark places, beauty
Under pewter skies, light
In conflict, fellowship
In all the other places, good humor

Wisdom Prevails

~ William C. Burns, Jr.
~ Check my Blog
~ Undulating Geometries of the Human Heart, the Inevitable Compilation of William C. Burns,Jr.
~ Here There Be Dragons – the Artist Path

On the Question of Spirit Animals

do you realize that most people don’t even get the glances that you have?
your spirit animal is something that you can not control – just like your heart
oh sure
you leave bread crumbs out for her – only to find out she eats meat
you offer to give her a bath and she is so not into that
this is not some domesticated, sweet, beautiful bird

you spirit animal is all that you are
but the part you can control
and the part you can’t control

she is creativity in its most destructive form
she is the painful beauty of the sun
and she will not answer like a dog

and that is what makes her worthwhile
that is what makes her a thing of rare beauty

you’re either going to have to live with your current rate of progress
work hard
trust your mentor

or you can run her off

because you can

i would chose to feel honored that she has even come to sniff your hand
she must love you very much
because she is feral and wild and just possibly the most beautiful thing ever

West Virginia

The shadows of winter
grow long and
Shadows deal in whispers
and listening to such
Leads me to reflect
And in a moment’s reflection
I once again walk the hills
rusted and crunchy
Where the grapevine twined into the trees
And blue-tailed lizards
slept on sun drenched slabs
of tawny sandstone

In brooks and creeks
In the waters
and in the rocks
Something very close to the eternal magic
something others call . . . Life
Something sang to me
in a voice deep and clear

the Return of Rynn Jyuck, Master of the Vortex


The old man crawls out of the shallow cave
‘How long have I slept under this rock?’
he asks himself

The younger voice dreadfully cheerful

‘How the hell did I get this way?’
The old man’s voice is dry and sandy

Stand and come forth’


‘The Orb of Hope transcends to the Apex
It has slipped into the World
through the Crack in the sky
the Horizon. . .’
the young man is annoyingly articulate

‘What are you talking about?’

‘The Sister of the Orb
has relinquished her. . .’

‘Hold it!’
the old man interupts

but the younng man charges right on
‘And the flecks of diamond. . .’

‘I said HOLD IT!’


‘Who are you and what do you want?

The young man bows
‘I am but a simple scribe
sent to call you back from the Earth
As per your request long past.’

‘When? I remember no such thing.’

‘Master, you have been here a very long time.’

the old man stretches
‘I feel it
You got any water?’

‘Yes, Master
and some toast with orange marmalade.’



I dreamed I held Dawn’s Left Hand

She opened across a dismal grey horizon
bleeding light and color back into the world

The Darkness receded but did not yield
The roots of dark had grown into my flesh
such that a part of the ever night clung to me

The only way it could hold to me
and avert the ripening young sun
was to hide on me
to become a shadow

I dreamed I beheld Dawn’s golden hair
drifting, nimbus like, around her visage
and I knew if I did not look away
her increasing glory
would surely blind me

I turned to the West
and she caressed my shoulders
my back
my hair. . .

I dreamed the Night had left me
to learn all the things this Day
had to teach me


The Naming of the Gryflix

“So son, they call you Beetle Shaug?”

“We can stop here to rest, if you like.
I have more vittles. . .
Some nice fowl.”

“Is your name Beetle Shaug?”

“Yes, though I prefer to go by the moniker ‘Aryan’.”

“Master at Arms?”

“Well. . . yes.”

“It would seem there is more to you
than meets the eye young Tyro.
I knew Aryan, a very long time ago.”

What was that like?”

“Why did they send you. . .?
I must name you.
Close your eyes son.
Yes, like that
Without looking
tell me the name of the creature
the one peeking at us from the wood-line?”


“Close your eyes.”

“There is nothing out there.”

“You better tell me before it nips your nose.”

There comes a crashing sound
could have been a stone thrown by the old man
or it could have been. . .

“A Gryflix.
A Gryflix comes.”

Open your eyes
I shall call you Gryf.”

“Not certain I like that name.”

“You like it better than Beetle?”

“Well, yes
But. . .”

“Gryf it shall be.
Why did they send you?”

“Tyros of Institute
have treked to the Cavern for hundreds of years.”

“But, why you?”

“It was my turn.”

“We’re gonna get along just fine Gryf.”


On the Bluff Overlooking Institute

The boy
He seems reluctant to walk down
now that we are overlooking Institute

He will not meet my eye
seems not to hear my questions
and is otherwise distracted

What does such a suffering face tell me of New Man?
My thoughtful soul
freshly returned from silent solitude troubles me on his behalf

“Breath deep son
Suspire the Wonder of this World. . .”

“Master. . .”

“Yes, Tyro?”

“They have no idea you are coming
and not everyone will be pleased. . .
with me.”

And I laugh for the first time in ages
“Hell, son
Same as it was
Same as it ever shall be.”

“Dewlar and Frdii
They said
the reason I got picked for checking your Cavern
is because no one wants me around.”

“Non sense
A fine young apprentice like you?”


I step to him
Take hold of his head and hold his eye
“Yes son
I take you as my Tyro.”
He is shaking

Hold it together son
hold it together
We have to get thorough this

Do you swear to obey me in all things?”
Don’t shake your head
Say it son.”

“You don’t want me. . .”

You will not tell me what I want and don’t
You will tell me if you chose to obey me as your master”

Oh yes Master Rynn Jyuck.”

“Then let it be known hence that this young man is now
Gryflix Tyro Jyuck
This man is my acknowledged apprentice in accord with the Old Ways”

I can feel the Sky, Earth and Water watching
This is a right thing and well done
I clap my hands and rain clouds form in the distance

a right thing and well done




this is the beginning of an epic

more to come




this is the beginning of an epic