my hands carry scenes
from a different winter
stiff with memories
yet to come
blood crust blades the snow
windswept carved the land
why only the never?
antlers stand silent of stone
ever thorn head burning
one step in the without
dancing in my devils
twist my spaces thin
knuckle bark to bone
raw red and stone
under covers counting
hours writhe of poem
And, sometimes, it rains.
I pick up the rain-soaked branch, examine it and hope that by doing so it becomes dry enough to begin. That kind of hope is futile when the weald wants rain. And, today the forest wants the rain. I chuck the piece of firewood to the pit and wander down one of the myriad paths branching out from one of the myriad firepits of the wode, all of which are the same firepits and yet all have their own accord.
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black stick twisted
of the night wood
shadow into shadow
turning right through
black stick twisted
rapping through brush
thorn track tapping
cracking them thick heads
come to me
run with me
kiss dark ever a
huntress moon
send me your earth
root me deep and
raise my arms high
to sun, to moon, to sky
pour rain down on me
wash me clean of stain
stonefields under flint
send me your earth
tonight
her embrace mine november
the only real remain
slender pale her fingers,
hair her ebon black
her crimson at my throat
here, only sleepwalking
dawns the midnight sun
only slowtalking brings light
whispers,
you cannot begin to know
i eigengrau glyph my skin
sun-pocked stained within
carve nails with needles
set quill to down & begin
mutterchant words forgot
shuttled off to fen to rot
leeched a heart of taint
spirit thorn reflect of elf-shot
so, this spellbound
sworn to the stone
so, this spellbound
ash, thorn and bone
Lately, I’ve been feeding a greater need to improve my grounding. In the increasingly chaotic and manic world we have stumbled into over the past decade and a half, I feel like I have lost some of the ability I used to have to ground myself. Chances are that it is more likely that my abilities have not changed so much as they have not adapted to the current state of affairs — they are a little off-key might be the better way to think of it.
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