A Bardic Tradition

I stand outside her door in dark halls, only faintly aware of how I got here, but fully aware that I needn't know the precise path. I place my hand on the threshold and, barely above a whisper, begin.

 

"The bells, silver bells, will soon take their toll

A chime heard just the same for you and me

When men first had daughters, pennies they stole

When women first had sons, gold filigree

 

Take all their pain, take every drop, and more

Then take your seat and take your crown darling

Then consume the blood of who you adore

For here life resides and there you must cling

 

You had to know rebirth and realm crafting

In this puzzle were like sibling pieces

This grand structure and these blueprints drafting

Both you and yours as color increases

 

Like a rainbow with all of the colors

Hopes' facets shine best by//with many others."

 

With a deep breath I knock on the door, precisely where she said to "find me;" in a moment she answers. A wild woman I expected, her eyes blaze at my intrusion, but I simply respond with a smile. "I was wondering if you wanted to go to a festival with me?" The fire subsides some, now smoldering with curiosity, it seems she had been visited before, but was generally greeted in some less polite way that I am naive to, and this genuine invitation seems to strike her as foreign, dare I say... refreshing? After a short time she looks me dead in the eyes again and nods, half acceptance, half sharply prepared riposte should I betray. That was good enough for me; I gesture her onward into the hall. She pauses to ponder and then reaches out her hand. I shrug and take it, as soon as our fingers touch sparks fly from the fire in her eyes into the darkened halls. I turn, mesmerized, it is as if the halls are consuming all they could, lighting up in a dazzling display of light, heat, and color. I stand mouth agape and then turn back to her and, to my surprise, a little girl now stands by my side. I can still see the embers, like an intrinsic rage, glowing in her eyes, but much of the fire is now replaced with an innocence, and excitement for this festival I speak of. I squeeze her hand and we enter the hall, rapidly reaching our destination.

 

We emerge onto the lawn by my apartment, but I can sense things are different, made plain by the tree, not unlike a red herring, now sprouting purple and green mushrooms all around it. This feels like the effects of the fire and the hall brought to life in what might have been previously called "my realm," in the sense that she had been elsewhere and this was now our adventure. I wonder if other realms linked to the halls had been changed as well. I marvel at the tree and, before continuing our journey, speak using my particularly trained method of layered speech to say something twice at once, to no one in particular, of our arrival.

 

"A man offered fruit

Wrote volumes about the trees

And serpentine vines

 

Would I pluck your (fruit/eyes)

Just so mine might be opened

Or formed bearing seeds?

 

This song of the soul

Can I still hear the echo

Where{fore} it (once was/will be){from}?

 

Dripping with syrup

Bridge connects lyrics and blood

Wanting not for taste

 

Depetrifying

Stone skin becomes wooden flesh

For scales fall 'fore eyes

 

Scales falling from eyes

You wished so much for a man

The wish consumed you

 

For a fairytale

That just your spirit remained

Bright eyed observer

 

These ends have no roots

Time(s) (may/will) come for leaves and smoke

{This time}(Now) I {will} sing (for you)"

 

I turn back to my companion and notice that she is now holding a funny hat. "That's a cool frog hat you've got there." She looks down at the hat and then back at me and quickly pops it onto her head. I put my finger to my beard as if in consideration of her costume and give a very official seeming nod of approval.

 

"This is perfect! This time of year people wear costumes, and walk around and get candy. We'll fit right in." I say, plopping my own hat onto my head. To my surprise she puts her finger to her chin as if stroking her own imaginary beard, assessing my costume choice before finally saying quietly "I like your hat." I smile and nod in agreement.

 

Now that we've donned our respective funny hats we start the journey around. "Welcome to The Tides, my dear! Or is it Mercury now? I feel as though I've lost track of time... No matter, I know the season by the scene, it's Halloween! Or was that Dia de Los Muertos? No matter, we are dressed for the occasion, you are in capable hands, and that is enough for now." She holds tight to my hand as we walk the grounds, colored lights strung up and Jack-o-lanterns and skelemen all around. By the time we reach the parking lot, the entrance of which is covered in fake spiderwebs, I could tell my companion is nervous so I say cheerfully "Don't worry, this is tradition!" I could still sense her trepidation, after all this is a foreign land and on the surface this is a festival meant to spike the fear response. 

 

I kneel down and speak softly to her. 

"Not everything needs to be scary, not even all the things that are meant to be so. In this place that is something like a dream we can adjust not only ourselves but our environment, but the question is: can we enjoy the night as ourselves without major alterations to the night itself?" 

 

I can see her considering this question for a moment and then her eyes light up, burning away the darkest tendrils of fear. Her eyes now drift to a doorway past a walkway, both shadowed and lit, with a bowl of candy clearly seen beneath a sign. "Ah, now most times you need to knock and let your costume be seen, but every so often you'll see a house like this. All you need to do is walk up and grab some candy!" I can see her look shift to determination and without delay I hand her a pillowcase. "You can use this to gather your spoils for the night. Just remember, there are other children here, and they'll likely spot this doorway too."

 

She nods and without hesitation now scampers to the door. I see her open the pillowcase wide and grab the bowl. It seems as though she is going to dump it all in, a natural reaction I reason, given the unintentional threat of scarcity and her newness to the tradition. As I'm thinking this though she cocks her head to the side and reconsiders. With eyes still hungry but instincts tempered she plops the open pillowcase onto the ground, digs both her tiny hands into the candy, and grabs two handfuls, dropping them both cleanly into her sack. She looks back to make sure I'm not appalled, which I am far from under the circumstances, and she throws the sack over her shoulder and seems to hop back to me, which I feel is quite fitting for her hat.

 

"You did it! Would you like to journey to other houses? See what other bowls there might be and perhaps even knock on a few doors to show off your hat/costume?" She nods excitedly and takes my hand again, as we continue on. I can sense her eyes sparkle at all the shadowy wonder there is to see, and at the end of our night she is laden with candy.

 

I carry her and her haul back through the halls, tuckered as she is. When we arrive at her door I nudge her awake and set her down, straightening out her frog hat which had become askew. "We're back!" I wait to make sure she can get back inside safe and sound but, with her hand on the knob, she stops, turns, and gives me a big hug. I smile and say "I'll come back tomorrow." She nods and reaches inside her pillowcase, pulling out a handful in the same measure as she had been taking wherever she could all night, and hands it to me. "Thank you!" She nods once more and exits the hall, closing the door securely with a click behind her. Along with the click the halls grow dim, but I can't help but notice as I return to my room that they are a little brighter than before, with pumpkins and just a few spiderwebs now decorating the corners and crevices.