eclipse mania

between the eclipses

 

 

unblessed

with necessities of success

lost, adrift in prophecy

 

A confluence of ripples

scoops up objects of prophetic reclamation

(seen smaller in the glass-eye of science)

readies to set off more forceful expression

Elemental reaction

Metamagick metamorphoses

any body’s guess

Smooth glide out of cavernous hiding

into buoyant seas

Gala release to navigate (no hesitation) past history’s

sunken shore

— to explore, forward

— captivated, not captured

Fleet from soul to feet, swim enraptured

immersed in the only delightfully lighted path

Form flows with function

at last, riding unprismed waves

gracefully, recreated

as dance

 

 

 

ON THE THRESHOLD

 

 

before the eclipse

before the dawn

before we are given our missions,

sent forward in time

we must be ready

without map or guidebook to prepare

we must rise to the challenge

endure the patience to exercise

control over every capillary,

every synapse,

every atom of our being

 

it’s not in the believing, but

the seeing

a better world needs a new kind

of ware

be a ware

for peace, for change,

for consciousness

before the wake

 

 

 

Liminal Spaces

 

 

Twilight, the wee hours,

the dark of the moon

liminal spaces,

places where magic reigns,

crossroads, crises, cusps.

 

There is static on the radio.

A song

my voice was singing

taking flight to surround me,

the sound of music,

a comforter of down

to ease my soul.

 

I’ve been trying to define a taste,

a sense of bittersweet and salt.

I’ve been trying to find a trace

a footprint in the desert,

a sound, a scent,

a memory.

I’ve been trying to find a trace of me,

a piece to fit the puzzle,

my contribution to the grand design.

Seeking in the shadows,

the space between

myth and matter,

those places words

cannot define.

On those insubstantial plains

of myst and awe,

the stuff of dreams,

threshold of wonder,

creation begins.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The moon is blue and dreaming Cry all my children to sleep In conquest dreams we deem to rule In darkest halls we plot in torment In empty caverns we deify glory Dance, again, dance for freedom Dance my children to sober dreaming Of valor and honor and color and pain Dance and cry and strive again To hold a mass and state the Name Call forth my demons from sleep The songs of old and runes of yore The empty words we've learned to score The high and low and even Listen and you'll hear them moan It's dark and dirty here below The emptiness can drive you To a place you ought not go You'll die in horror screaming Cry all my children to sleep The moon is blue and so are you You'll hear its song so clearly And discount it all to dreams And when you wake, you'll wonder Why you're screaming Why you ache in places you can't feel Why your work and world don't seem so real Why the voices in your head are screaming And you'll count the phases of the moon And wander in the night without direction And keep a silent vigil in your secret heart And turn quickly round the corners, Lest someone see you And when the curse is cast, you'll hear it spoken Without bothering to look for the absent speaker And when the moon has turned its face To other dreamers You'll see a vision overpower the sky And answer . . . when you ask it "why?" The moon is blue and dreaming. Mushroom teacups sail in stardust withered laurels snap in dustwhirls tethered horsemen roam the skyways soldiered remnants hiss through brushwoods All is soon made clear.

 

 

 

 

Blind old seer, wizard, holy prophet

stumbling over rocky hillocks

toward the sun

beseeches, sings, ululates

opening passage, veils, gates

free to breathe, drink, be absorbed

 

 

 

London Bridge is burning, burning

The towers are struck and fallen down

With time and tide a'turning

What was lost may still be found

In a world of lads and lasses

Hale and strong, brave and true

Joined in singing,

Raise our glasses

And do as we must do

 

 

 

Immolation

 

 

Red Dragon glorious

Rising to flame

Cleansed of tumbling towers,

poisonous pits,

no refuge

Caustic breath invigorates

Hard smoke billows out challenge

Burning gloriously

ember threads

seer's memory

 

 

 

Empire

 

 

Standing askew as the inexorable boot commands

squeezing out gems, polished and pure.

Paid in bread and circuses.

Bathed in raw entitlement

dreaming of ravaging, raping at will

drinking bright blood doped with

ecstatic thrill

casting lot that promised reward

be assured.

Cold, this world.

Shadow sans Sun.

Listless lapping at sparkling carbonation.

Sinking below matter and form

into terror stories;

taking warmth from smoldering coals.

As tomorrow continues today

your dissolving heart

dispersing pearls of wisdom.

 

 

 

 

With a word, the stranger gives a hand

An image stronger than the sound

Water falls upon the land

A smile peeks out from a frown

An eclipse returns dark to noon

As men's minds walk upon the Moon

 

 

 

Prologue

 

 

Sun and Moon embrace

as one

for brief eternity

all mystery within

 

Black and White

create gradation

radiate kinetic energy

We can achieve

believe, begin, begin, begin

 

Gardeners, planting flowers,

planting food,

planting souls in

nurturing soil

 

Healers

perceiving wounds

to be sewn

relieving loneliness

revealing pain

held in, denied

twisting ardent toil

 

Teachers

admiring their wards

finding with them

questions, keys and doors;

realizing history is only destiny

when explorations cease;

invitations from space and time

come complete

with choices

 

A choir of voices

from softest spark

to fervent blaze

Troops of effervescent players

Symphonies,

drums at dawn

Inspiration and instruction

carried forth through song and stage

vibrant murals painting onward age to age

Taking up the challenge of the tale

that twists, turns, meanders

providing kaleidoscopic opportunity

ever to begin again

 

 

 

 

ECLIPSE SCRYING

 

 

Where’s the fun

in hiding in the eye

of the hurricane?

I want to be bodysurfing

the storm,

madly dancing in the rain,

cast off from restrictive form …

I want to taste sweet grapes

break crisply;

Embark on a journey of ecstasy

to be all I have

thought to be;

yet safely reside

in a place deep inside

away from the prying norm.

I want romance in the sense of

sensation inviting and free.

I want a chance to believe in magic.

And I want what I want to be

crazily in love with me.

 

 

 

Accept (I am as I am)

and flow

 

 

silvery sediment

Grand glowing Sun

eclipse on the river.

Caressed by satin water

hot and cold

element controlled, ever free.

River journeys

more sensual than air

more loquacious that Earth

more secure than fire

We can discover,

transmute along the river

never noticing how everything

has changed.

River run true rumination

murky, long flirtation with mysteries

we are born to yearn for.

Consummation may be our last reward.

When none (not even I) observe —

that’s always when it happens.

Feel safe, alone or in good

company. The river loves

in her own fashion.

 

 

 

ECLIPSE DREAM

 

 

Jump! Jittery. Nauseous claustrophobia . . .

l e t t i n g g o s l o o o w

Whoosh leap faster than my breath can catch me.

Dizzily, half-blinded, out of focus,

slant view along tree-strewn path.

Enchanted forest?

Smoke curling upward.

Gingerbread cottage in the woods.

Do I rest here, recoup my losses?

Savory soup simmers over tender hearth fire.

Shadow gloom occludes unswept corners.

Yet the center of the room

is surprisingly clean, radiant.

I sit, mantra embraced.

Nestled by magestic silk wings.

Outside winter is falling.

When I awaken from my trance

planting season will begin.

 

The wild rains of spring

have caught me napping.

They catch me up in torrents,

swing me along,

a cradle in the sea.

I descry mazes,

wondrous pageantry

woven into stellar stories.

Celestial spray anoints me.

I commence secret ceremony,

believing the Earth to be my home.

 

 

 

 

Purposeless circumstance

wears and weakens

eclipse’s focus