Relentless the tide that brings men ashore. Continue reading “Relentless Tide”
I remember heaven.
I remember the glory that reigned there. The peace of it all. I remember being so fulfilled that I thought about nothing. Wanted nothing. Needed nothing. I remember sitting in the mouth of heaven, laughing for no reason at all, other than to let some of the light out of my soul.
I remember hearing it.
I remember heaven.
And I remember heaven cracking.
Remember hearing you calling me.
I remember the moment I remembered that I used to be alive. That I used to have a life. That there were people I loved and respected.
I remembered, then, that I used to have you.
That I left you.
And I remember a voice gently calling me. Asking me if I wanted to try something.
Just for a little while. Just for you.
I remember the day heaven let me go—just for a day, mind you—just so I could visit.
So I could comfort you. Continue reading “Time’s Loss”
“Well… since you’ve come this far, I’ll let you inside—but don’t touch anything.”
“Uh, okay,” I replied.
“Not ‘okay’. You say ‘yes’ like you mean it.”
Huffing, the guy turned and walked back into the cottage. Not even bothering to make sure I was following.
“Shut the door on your way in,” he called over his shoulder, moving down a flight of steps.
I could feel it.
My nerves were bubbling. Oozing. All my veins were dancing, jittering against my bones.
All my life I’d waited for this. Looked for it. Sought after it.
I was finally here.
The Ocean Library. Continue reading “Between the Tides”
I hear your name, whispered against the dark waning moon.
It calls to me.
Spurs me onward, encourages me.
I dive in.
That swirling abyss that brings me to stars. That brings nebulas to their knees. That cracks the very foundation of Jupiter, itself.
I dive into that darkness. That depth.
And I expect to see nothing.
Nothing but you. Continue reading “Marvel”
I thought it was…
Cute, in a way.
She stood with her shoulders back, braced for anything. Ready to get hit with rejection, to get hit by a gust of wind, to get hit with a tree that I conjured from the ground.
In that moment, she was ready for anything.
“For now,” I say, leaning over my boulder, elbow resting against the rock as my palm props up my face. “You may be my apprentice.”
And so it began.
Our spiraling stars.
Giving all that it can give.
Giving all that I can give. An exhale in the dark. A whisper that tapers into echoes. A single word given.
And it’s all that I am.
What a glorious night. Continue reading “Glimmer of Moonlight”
Blitzing moon that glares down at the forest, streaking the undergrowth with tendrils of lunar light. Small specks are lit up here and there, disturbing the tranquil dark. Upturning the critters in the wake of the night’s gaze. Always questioning, always wondering.
In the night, there are things that are seen that can’t be unseen. And there are things that are unseen that can be known, and yet, remain unseen. The forest at night is a magical place, a new realm. Home to the darkest of beings, the most silent, the most watchful. Night in the forest is a place, not a time. It is an essence, a creature unto itself.
And there, in the dark.
Sitting between the sparks of moonlight.
Hiding under the gaze of stars.
That’s where you’ll find me. Continue reading “Beyond the Moonlight”
The snow used to be clear. White. Clean-looking. Crisp, airy tufts that graced the landscape. Bunched together in a kind, soft array.
Before we got here, it wasn’t hard-packed.
And it most certainly wasn’t running with red.
There was a quiet song.
A lull in the void.
Static that, when focused, became edging. Drawing. Alluring. A song that gave promise to stars, and hope to blackholes. It punched through the continuum with gusto, displaying feasts and boasting of something sturdy on the edge of the horizon, something soft lurking at the very back of space itself. A river coaxing the fish out to something bigger, something better. A creek hidden in the foliage. A place to replenish when depleted.
There was a quiet song in the universe. One that I thought I heard only in my dreams.
But, that wasn’t so.
The song was real.
And it was beautiful.
It was loud.
And it was true to its word.
The song I followed into the universe…
It was you.
All along, there was only the one source. The one promise. Just the one.
It was you. Continue reading “Melody Beyond Imagination”
They didn’t speak of him. Not at all.
The king with the white mane.
A notch hanging off his ear.
Ridges gouged around his eyes.
He sat in the corner, silently. Watchfully. His tail swishing mindfully as the others ignored him. Steering clear of him, because of his odd color. His strange scars. Or, maybe, because of the way he seemed quiet. Daunting.
He was an anomaly, honestly. Something to marvel. To ponder. Something to observe, take in, and marvel.
And yet, there he was.
There, in the corner—away from all the others—he sat. Just the tiniest bit of sunlight shrinking in his eye.
The white lion. Continue reading “Waiting For Lions”
We were wolves, basking in the glow of the moonlight. Chasing autumn’s heels as winter froze our game. Hungry bellies that ached beneath the warmth of our fur, our smoking breaths, our hopeful howls. We huddled through the cold, cobbling warmth together with beating hearts and heated blood. When spring came, we were the first to greet it. Singing praises to the melting snow and the blooming life. All things renewed in our meadows, filling us to the brim with new scents, new trails. And we stayed through summer as well, panting through the sun’s burden of heat. Powering through so that we might blend with the colors of autumn once again.
We were wolves.
And things were beautiful.
It was not perfect.
It was not easy.
It was life.
And it was good.
We were wolves. Together under the gaze of the forgiving moon. Hidden along the trees’ shadows, watchful and hopeful with every passing season. Looking forward to the future together with our eyes looking past the skies.
Now I’m unsure.
The foreign scent brings me grief. Filling me to the brim with something akin to summer’s heat, yet, it leaves me empty like winter’s bared teeth. This strange, familiar shape I see…
This change brings a season I’ve never heard of before. Winds that jar my senses with the foreign scent it brings.
And I don’t know anymore.
If we are not wolves…
Who will we be? Continue reading “Forging Seasons”