| The Jade Book of Words |
| The poems in this section are so named because they are all taken from a little book that lives on my bookshelf, which I bought more than 8 years ago for a diary and never used. The book itself is indeed jade-colored and is slowly filling with poetry as it happens. While I am egocentric, I do have to give credit where it's due, and here I want to pay a tribute to my Muse. If she ever divorced me it would be more than a nightmare; my whole world would end... :( I don't know if she goes online, but she reads intent, no doubt. This book is dedicated to her. |
| Titled Against the Burgundy Journey The phoenix watched, cried its song of death and pain. I did not remember the note of rebirth eternally present. Did I simply miss it? It plummeted. I saw the flame of its wings fall, felt a small hole opening in my heart. The dragon lifted its head from the waters of Entire. It watched with crystal eyes, then slid back into the depths. I did not notice, at the time, the truth which was slowly becoming. Were the clouds truly thickening? I felt only the wind gathering, and lifted my face to the breeze. I did not feel the growing heaviness. I felt only the brisknes of Fresh borne upon the wind. It happened, as it always does, as it did before repeating itself. Never a new tune, that... always the same to ears which grow deafer each day. I saw only, with deep shock, that the walls did not crumble but toppled. The flames did not burn but went up in a blast and died under the new onslaught of black, freezing rain. The gryphon closed its eyes in its cave of gold. I stod, disbelieving, atop the last hill of the Reign, as the despair settled in thick folds over my Heart's-Place. With truth, at last, dragging upon my eet like leaded manacles, I sank and wept. Far off, the unicorn cried a pearly tear which burned the place it fell upon. 10-23-00 |
| Enough to Hope It Will Grow This 'love Is like finding one blade Of Green grass That is emerging, crumpled and fresh, hidden long under layers of rock and black ash Not enough to feed upon (yet) But enough to wait for... 1-01 |
| The Arrival The darkness is cleft by a rush of wings, a scent of fragrant air. I glance upward, eyes full of the newcoming ways. The darkness is sprayed outward and gone in the face of this new light, a shining. Her eyes glowing with the golden sky of sunrise, Her hair a multitude in itself. Rainbows but colorless, bright vibrant. As She smiles, stars break and glow bright about Her, The cosmos shine and swirl a gossamer sparkling robe Around Her smooth feet. I look up to Her, Shining bright as the sun and soft as the Moon, hear the songs in cascading fountains of music, Pour from the stars and pool at Her ankles. I breathe in Her perfume of ages, sweet and ancient, fresh and bright, and as She begins to speak to me, I burst into bloom. 12-00 |
| Resong The songsmith calls, the calling cries, the phoenix rises from my mind a wild wisdom, a falling cry, a swelling feeling from the darkened sky The dragon is stirring, do not repent of the songs you sang and the poems spent of the moonlight madness to which you succumbed or the flying freedom that you have become 12-00 |
| The Thundered Blade A child's cry, a bleeding childe The dragon's bloode makes gold eyes wild The sword is risen in the glade Through the thunder is the blade By its fall the change is made. A blue eye red, a scarlet face Within the veins, a pulsing race Twisting in the tortured night Pulling bonds forever tight In the glade, a timeless fight. Claws are bared, a growling low Lightning reveals in the snow Staggered back, the ground gapes wide Revealing hell-colored tides And screams for mercy as it slides. The last soft blood, spots that weave A runic poem on fallen leaves With steps heavy, silent hail Pressed to ground by iron rails... A phoenix preens its glowing tail. 2-1-01 |
| A Pale Girl Do you look up tonight? the moon a pale girl rides through a river town, her hands trembling for the cool secret of warmly scented windowpanes which rises, jostling amongst the diamond chips upon her path. Can you listen and hear faintly murmuring songs of these crystal pinpoints as her, pale girl rides slow to the belltower and pauses but a breath to watch beneath, the gentle pulsation of one hundred lights? She glances behind to the pink nose of dawn, wandering through her foot- prints, erasing them with violet light 4-12-01 |
| Seadream Waves breaking on the shore, I wander barefoot In the sliding foam, alone for The mewing cries of gulls far above. The wind that tugs playfully at my hair, breathing into it salt and an ocean coolness, swirls the thin glass sheets of water around my feet which look like pale fish patting slowly Through the foam. Across the long forest top that is the ocean, I can taste the cries and calls of a hundred thousand dozen Mermaids smiling sweetly up at sailors who are a long way from their homes |
| Wept I love you so much that if you ever went away, I would cry enough to make a rainbow of tears then everyone could look up at the sky and think, how beautiful is her pain... |