#mirearth

“   No. You need to give me  more time.  I said I would handle this.   “

          DEATH  COMES  FOR  ALL  THINGS  !  rot  and  decay  .  fundamental  truths  within  the  balance  of  the  universe  .  BUT  MY  ANCESTRAL  HOME  IT  IS  NOT  YOUR  TIME  .  never  had  she  returned  since  the  fall  .  for  the  grove  was  now  a  lasting  testament  to  her  past  misgivings  .  no  matter  the  passing  ages  and  the  distance  which  now  lay  between  the  two  .  the  woodland’s  sacred  roots  had  burrowed  into  her  bones  and  though  the  power  was  not  shared  it  was  deeply  felt   .  AND  IT  WAS  DYING  .

          in  the  thick  of  the  withering  does  she  come  to  meet  the  green’s  devoted  protector  .  his  bearing  all-encompassing           an  embrace  of  earth  ,  the  comfort  of  soil  beneath  bare  feet  .  long  ago  these  notions  used  to  beckon  to  her  .  filing  and   answering  her  call  but  now  there  was  only  SILENCE  .  a  barren  chasm  where  something  fertile  once  thrived  ,  a  radiant  growth  no  more  .  ❛  i  should  have  come  sooner  ...  i  was  once  the  guardian  of  this  forest  but  i  lost  my  claim  to  that  title  many  moons  ago  now  .  ❜  what  was  she  now  but  a  petrified  shell  of  the  creature  she  once  was  ?  NIMUE  ,  MAKE  !   NIMUE  ,  SEE  !  the  moss-covered  sprites  would  coo  in  her  wake  . I  AM  NOW  A  TRESPASSER  IN  THE  WOOD  THAT  BIRTHED  ME  .  ❛  what  can  be  done  here  ,  swamp  thing  ?  ❜   for  surely  this  process  of  demise  could  not  be  yielded  by  a  disenchanted  oracle  ,  no  matter  her  history  .  

It took a moment to stand, mud sucking at his waterlogged boots. Swamp. Boggy, moss covered, murky swamp. How far had they driven to dump him here?

A gnarled, verdant root twisted out of the water to his right and he took a moment to sit. Scrubbing a soaked sleeve at his face. Forcing his thoughts into line as the roots twisted -

He was up with a start then, feet splashing and falling back on his ass as the roots contorted and rose as if on their own. He stared as eyes peered out and he swallowed, thickly. “Fuck, I’m dead, aren’t I?”

         HE  ,  MORE  FOREST  THAN  MAN  !  a  verdant  sovereign  of  the  trees          GUARDIAN  / PROTECTOR  .  ‘  fair  beast  merry  meet  ,  will  you  not  come  closer  ?  ‘  the  pixies  chorus  in  impassioned  simpers  .  FURTHER  INTO  THE  WOOD  MEET  OUR  ENCHANTING  LADY  OF  SPRING  !   roses  which  bloom  from  her  wrists  ,  red  as  the  blood  from  the  veins  which  they  flowered  .  the  queen  is  parting  the  thick  brambles  gold-kissed  fingertips  prodding  through  the  green  .  when  she  appears  it  is  the  shadows  of  the  veil  yet  she  herself  is  a’glow  in  a  halo  of  nature’s  vitality  . 

        ❛  my        how  lovely  you  are  and  yet  we  are  but  perfect  strangers  .  ❜  breathless  her  words  come  pale  eyes  leering  ,  flight  suspended  .  

          they are all that they are  ;  never a dance opposing yet complementing one another between careful movements and lithe muscles.  his presence is a welcoming one,  one untouched by the firm,  pressed air and instead he is born from the trees,  made real by the dirt and brambles. there is a limitless to his soul much like her own,  yet hers is ethereal.  were you to touch it,  it would trickle like glittering water against your fingers,  endlessly. 

                       you are right  …  they should not be alone. 

            the sun smiles and the earth finds peace.  from her tender embrace all is assured,  all is  beautiful ——   perfect.  the flowers at her feet adorn their mother’s furs.  they dance and rejoice around his own  (  brothers !  sisters ! ),   all their colours blend into a intricate mosaic of green,  yellow and red.  it is neither strange or peculiar  it simply is,  just as the mountains tremble,  as the forests gleam and glow and as the clouds silently roll pass.