Warp & Weft

headwinds tell you everything you need to know and the arrow's spinning on your compass rose all the paths are hidden that'll lead you home there ain't a best way to sell your soul

no, there ain't a best way to sell your soul

i'm on the fence watching shadows lengthen from the falling sun and i wonder if night is coming and i know the answer but i loved the day

out in the wild places have you noticed yourself stop looking for patterns? and then stop seeking flaws?

dizzy shift a wave tower dragging under splinters screaming broken before broken again

most people are metroponically grown rootless, the root of our exploitation of self, of earth, of spirit.

let love be a net to catch the fallen, wherever they be however they lived however they fell.

let none fear oblivion follows loneliness, or a void gapes beneath the intemperate.

i awoke with a mild lament that the journey of reconciliation long ago left behind the window of parenthood.

and, though deep in the mountains with slim vantage, i learned that while the landscape does not change in our short lives, perspective may,

you breeze you

have found this flute

to sing your passage

to call form from aether

to sublime harmony

or cacophony

before blowing on

to the next flute

and the next

and the next

from the bright halls into the elements earth, sky and shadow, sea imprisoned in a blind god's dream.

the eye of memory stolen from the mind's mantle illusions within illusions a realm flawed, just perfect enough to bewilder.

even the greatest among us make only false names seeking dominion over others when all creation shouts: BECOME GODS OF YOURSELVES!

strike forth within, adventurer, the elements will guide the eagle's cry, the pinewood's sigh into that well of light you'll glide to the other side.

beauty is the weakening illusion. seek it zealously throw yourself into the dark reclaim the eye cast down the lance become the beacon.

well howling wide behind my eyes, my dry eyes i have lied i have lied to the lute & lyre by the fire, strumming the lost from pall & mire.

struggle up through turned earth blue in the face, collapse onto beds & under canopies, puff the ghost up catch a clear wind--

they said you could be anything.

let me remember or let me utterly forget, anything but this blind compulsion.

take my skin off this demon take my heart from its maw

or am i the shadow? the damned clawed up from the pit to feed on this sad child?