the door that stands behind her slowly opens
i kick it shut
time after time
each time i look it’s open again
this mysterious haunting door
nothing is visible, nothing profound
i see her longing,
longing for sleep,
i see fear,
a lost look in her eyes,
as i hold her still, warm hand
there are tears in my eyes
i won’t let them flow for her now
the door swings ever wider
and lets in a soft evening light
it’s gentle, that light,
i see that
There are dark days ahead for us all.
Storm clouds hang close above.
I see how the stars, revealing the map,
have slowly extinguish your eyes.
The future seems something to dread
when your planets never align.
Come sit here a while, and rest.
The road has been long and you’re tired
and you lost many friends on the path.
You’re the last of the fruit of your family tree.
Yes. Finally. Yes. The last.
Every day it’s the same
empty house, old dreams, gathering dust,
you don’t trust anymore in the point of this game.
It would be so damned easy to quit.
Come sit here a while, and rest.
Look into the flames of this fire,
this fire that burns so bright,
red embers that glow in the night.
There are voices hovering near.
Loved ones are never lost.
They are one sidelong step out of sight.
Come sit by me here, in the light.
Sharp-tongued, bad-tempered,
Baleful with knowledge,
Ambitious witch,
A fervent desire burns in her eyes.
With charms written backwards,
She gives us long tasks.
We perform.
It’s her will.
We sit at the cauldron stirring dark liquids
As moons chase sun after sun from the hills.
The cauldron is split.
She screams in her fury.
Vicious elixir spills out on the land
Poisoning horses,
Parching the lake.
All of her wishes taken from her.
Disappointed, tyrannical mother,
Who spurs on her children, as if to their ruin,
Giving, by this, the magical spark
The three precious drops
Bright knowledge and wisdom
Three drops to shine in the pitiless dark.
For this she will chase you.
Chase you through dreams.
There is no escape from her dark self-esteem
Turning to meet her, tired of the race,
Looking the dark hag straight in the face
My eyes newly opened
I see there another
A goddess
A mother
Spinning a wheel and harvesting grace.
Beneath her dark robes is a glimmering brightness,
A fire that transforms, ignites and inspires.
Her curse marks the path to all of her blessings
And opens the way to visions of light
At the heart of this beautiful chalice of night.
Breathe deep the gathering gloom,
Watch lights fade from every room.
Bedsitter people look back and lament,
Another day’s useless energy spent.
Impassioned lovers wrestle as one,
Lonely man cries for love and has none.
New mother picks up and suckles her son,
Senior citizens wish they were young.
Cold hearted orb that rules the night,
Removes the colours from our sight.
Red is grey and yellow white.
But we decide which is right.
And which is an illusion?
Each day the morning ritual’s the same,
I wake to hear the traffic in the street.
My mother, from her bedroom, calls my name.
I wish that I could stay in longer sleep.
Preparing breakfast, brewing morning tea,
I throw the heavy window open wide
Breathing in cold air, throwing bread and seed
to waiting birds that gather there outside.
But now my lingering dreams all fly away
A Raven came, down swooping from the sky!
His presence here a blessing on the day
My heart awakes and lifts my spirit high.
Mythic bird, bringing darkness from the night
On wings outspread and lifting up in light.
The voice, a breath on a breeze,
stellar, shining, white feather floating,
scattered stardust, soft twinkle,
a warm whisper close to my ear
”Yes, the light was the beginning,
the beginning of the myth,
the myth that brought us all here,
the myth that we had to be.”
”Then the stars gathered round
humming and singing,
singing celestial sound.
The world started spinning,
spinning the loom of itself.”
”No one said, LET THERE BE LIGHT!
Light was, light is.
There is light and darkness,
it’s shadow.”
”But in the great-long-forever-timeless-nothingness
it was suddenly 5.15am!”
When I asked for the theatre prompt sheet
for the book of love and imagination,
(I already had the script),
she projected this onto a board,
along with a dim, faded photograph
of the Mad Hatter leaning against a screen,
nonchalant, in a space
beside a gap in a tattered curtain.
He had stood still there a long time
a very long time ago.
A crowd of children passed by,
wandering home from school,
pushing, shoving, chattering,
telling how they knocked all the apples down
from the garden wall,
but that wasn’t it at all.
They’d forgotten paradise.
‘I am melted’ she said,
sighing to music
like ice-cream?
like cheese?
like chocolate?
I asked her, concerned
”I think like hot fudge syrup,
yes like that”
thoughtfully she replied,
looking in my eyes,
dripping caramel
I’m so glad it’s not like a candle!
I would hate her to burn away and go out
leaving me with no light
especially on a such a magical night
as this
***************
the ‘melt’ music ~ The Way You Look Tonight by Dolls Combers
sun-splashed showers
of rainbow’d light
paint the valley far below
and tip the trees with golden glow
the river, flowing out of sight,
reflects the colours of the sky
a kestrel turns on air above
yet my heart,
like dynamite, balanced on a precipice,
could snuff this glorious vision out,
turning sunbeams into night
fantasy can rip you apart
and take you into the dark
or it can be lovely
and brighten your heart
the dark is behind us
may happiness bind us
when the dream is of love
and sweetens the night
it can lead us into the light
with this sorrow comes the sorrow
of every loss I ever had
it’s a pool of hidden depths
full of hidden weeds, obscured
is this the same for those occasions
when I’m glad? do i recall a well of joy?
gladness seems to stand alone
no predictions and no source
I know too well the ebb and flow
joy transcends all of itself
that moment like a rising wave
that bubbles up with light and air
today I cannot turn the tide
I sleep the sleep of constant loss
I’m sick with sad complexities
and all the tears I ever cried
if love were simple, as I think,
this stream would never lead
another sorry sigh away
but would swim me back again
The Dreaming Path 