Softly murmurs whisper

If I am to be shadow, let me also be light
Foundling amongst gravestones
Sorter and sorted
A lost voice wandering

A world not meant for sages
Decried madness
Torrent truth
Wreaks havoc without regard

Bring me to your mouth in hunger
I will sate you
As a thousand souls before have supped
Kindle light in the burning darkness
Know me for the home unsought
Nevertheless
Found

Seasonal Affective Disorder for weirdos

So, Seasonal Affective disorder is a thing. And I have a version of that. But I’m weird, so mine kicks in during spring, the days are longer, and most people love that. Me, I just want a bit more night. A bit more clouds. I want it cooler and such. And really my path falls into that too. One can hardly worship night and Winter and not be affected by its opposite. So, I’m a bit more prone to depression or overreacting. If I’m going to overthink into the ground, it’s a bit more likely during that time.

I really only notice it in counterpoint to after the summer solstice. When I can feel energy flowing in, instead of out.

I feel powerful and more myself, more focused in this half of the year.
It’s just how it is.

What sleeps may dream

Give this wavering line
This movement of sand
This sharp
This soft latex
Breathing in like summer wine
Summer dies in slow gasps
While winter builds piece on piece
Tell me your thoughts
Invite me into your memory
Summer shudders
Winter takes its first step
Take my hand
And dance
….
And wake

You are the storm, you say?

You speak of yourself as a storm. As if to warn me away. And in doing so, fail utterly, if that be your goal.

I am He who walks between. I speak with the embodiments of the elements, I cavort and hold friendship with those of air.

I follow the path of a lord of Storm, of night, of Winter.

You speak to me of your storm and I think, “Perfection.” Be you a storm. Strike wind and in fierceness know, in me you are home.

Should you care to make a place with me. Storms are not to be feared but loved. Shouted in joy. And should they calm, spoken soft words to and made ready for when next they stir.

Midsummer night

I’ve got no idea what I’m doing most days. Just getting through, just getting on
Some days I wish I had stayed asleep. Had never loved…and lost. I knew who I was then. What I would do with my life. But I was loved and I was lost. And those doors are long closed. Memories I can’t even share. Secret lives, no matter how far in the past are a burden you never put down.

I feel like I traveled in a time machine the hard way. By living it. By sleepwalking through it. Clawing my way back to some new chance that eludes me. Maybe because I want it so much. Maybe because I hold on so tight. Maybe because I can’t let go. I feel like I’m starting over when most people seem to have at least a semblance of an idea where they are going.

They’re making future plans and I’m just trying to plan for having a future.

And yet I look at them living lives and I don’t understand them.

Passionate weirdos and artists and nerds I get. I don’t understand the earn money to earn more money to buy vacations to keep going to the job you hate to keep the marriage going that’s stable but without passion. And still, I look at what they have and I’m envious.

They’re living their chances and I get a few but never know how to get past the start.
I keep starting over and over and I’m always back to this place. Confident but alone.
Wondering what’s next.
Wondering if all the possibilities are in the past and all I have are these words I scream in the wilderness and these days that pass so slowly and so fast.

Elder Dreams-Audio

 

in silence bound
in seeking sought
where others bind
i was bought
when hearts collide and justice founds
my hopes do bide, in collision
sound siren call
revision

in loves sweet sigh
in voices raised
where heavens call
undertree did dance
and palm to palm
and join to join
praised by kine
in moments ere the fall

they seek, they find,
the burn is seasons rime and dragging feet do come to call and hopes are risen
ere the fall

but drink my wine and drink my blood
and we shall step above the sea to feast and dance our revelry
you seek a fight, we seek to feast and in the middle there’ rise a beast
in death we feast and seek the battle draught
in life we love and lust
break bread with us, break meek

but I am bound, as ever was, and in the silence

weep