Slip into Step

This might be the last thing I write for a while: the result of some fun mother daughter time last night.. No one needs understand this, just make of it what you will or nothing at all.

 

I

Swish and flick the first thought from your mind,

harvest and reward, let it slip forward.

Take this journey,  I can teach you to find blind,

a solid base from whence you spin golden fleece

the waves of time, a ship to sail, foreboding strength

with twins avail.

 

Though face to face, cherished hand to hand, of

inner circles, you do not face me, nor I  you

laid at your feet, future work to construe,

for now is a sculpture, unmade of white sand

re-established right here, an elaborate plan.

 

III

Turn not back to see, but walk from murder of fairies

snapped shut in a book, don’t look.

Like a knight holding sward aflame, capriole

impulsion to wing,  take not Pegasus’ reign.

Gaze down upon the beast that lays slain,

though hark not of victorious dumb luck

lest the gadfly steal volatile adventurous roaming

ingloriously.

 

IV

The brilliant , double tongued but true, holding

radiance with in the depths on your folding .

The fools lit, with the power of foresight armed,

giver and taker from the executioner or harmed.

Breathe gentle ambivalence thick and lingering

permeations, gestations in dim light gently sing.

 

V

Dainty hazel septarchy weld, competition challenged

value, instinct tightly held. Let battles of the will

prevail, to who might reach the dragons claw,

spun spun spun of whats possessed, of law,

it is useless to sit down and cry, so gather thy will, deny!

 

VI

Here we meet Chiron at the door to his abode

waiting with a mouth full of raindrop chatter,

alight Pegasus down to eye to eye to strode

between the craggy rocks, hierophant clatters

down past twin pillars amidst his vast hall

down to the light shadows in darkness on a wall.

 

VII

Phyche rescued from darkness, a toast, nine times

 to happiness wishes and dreams , pledged  loyalty

in all lights, in all of what does and does not seem.

 

VIII

King Agamemnon lays by three swards and within his bonds.

Sorrowful final good buys ring, but glory to thee in relief,

stagnant waters in heartbroken swamps abscond,

clear vision given away, retribution for the thief.

Break the abscess drain the bile, release the wile

for that of healing to grace its smile.

 

IX

Standing before Centaur Chiron’s cave,

Shadows dimly visible in warm darkness melt,

Two precious wands in hands filling the crave,

ceramic  ideas, wrought courage, vision felt.

Spring time flowers slowly come to bloom,

Half way, with in distance from across the room.

 

X

Full circle into the womb of unconscious secret,

where real purpose and destiny are contained,

high Priestess holds forth pomegranate, seeds be met.

We walk on amongst the colours, give to those a name.

Let us giggle of the esoteric,  be fools of scholarly fame,

we the perpetual children turning beauterflies to newly birthed fairies

printing our hearts with flutters of  night worlds

where glow worms create a sea of stars in a microcosm

and through the bedrock throw it to the heavens for consent,  

consent that we might be simplified  daughters of the earth,

with a taste of all creation from a dream, for the shine of all our worth.

Author's Note

Um yeah!!!!

Reviews

[Nan]

I feel like I've gained a lesson in mythology created within an existential framework.
It is because I see how we shouldn't look back but merely defend what we feel is
worthy, when it's time, and move on. I too would love to have chivalry and honor
regain in popularity.

The last strophe reminds me of Blake looking through a thousand eyes..
I have to keep this because it is such a good ride.

[Mark D. Chevalier]

It was like reading Aristotle or Homer. I see keen intellect in these sections like this one, "The brilliant , double tongued but true, holding radiance with in the depths on your folding."
Perhaps a truth, or a half-truth, and I liked the way the verse rolled off the tongue. You most certainly have the heart of a poet.
M

[Forest Green]

An intricate weave of effort success and perhaps regret. Just as raising a child is a constantly turning effort...so your poem brings one through the myriad of thoughts, hopes and wishes.

Nice work...!

Daniel