Ode to Love

Piece to stand astride  From very last through the first Time consolidates Crunching to midnight Parse one thousand years and day Into 25 Lines trace through the void Each one interacted with Their responses set So The Bard's Clock starts Not a single second erred Perfect means perfect This half strictly ours Privacy, Security Internal Affairs Twice I have waited Caution, now thrown to the wind This wish will come true For who has two coins? Not a fool among you, eh? Double or nothing. Did I come too late? Or is your timing thrown off By a single bip? It is the latter.

Rumors of wars within my internal structure color my morning. Still, I rise determined. On these pages is the world pristine, even as the world around me falls apart. I begin my day journaling about a dream conversation that somehow made it intact past the threshold. I find myself stunned still, considering all the possibilities that might unfold. Only a short time away, I wonder when the last time a new year has felt so tangible, like it's its own contained entity, daunting. These thoughts are interrupted by a knock on the door. When I open the door, The Ancient One stands there, shining brightly in the hallway, dispelling a large portion of what weighs on me. "I am expected, no?" I smile widely at her and gesture her in as I say "To a degree, though I cannot bring myself to assume so thoroughly. You are certainly welcome." She gracefully crosses the threshold, and then immediately her energy transitions to some kind of small mammal as she pounces on my bed whi...

"With a single line, The Dreamwalker(')s(') tale and morning begin." I wake with this thought in mind, lingering in bed without opening my eyes. It is unclear to me how long I remain like this, letting stories take shape around residual thoughts, daydreaming, it might be called. I do not toss and turn like I normally do in such hazes, and only think anything of it when the weight on my chest sinks in. I feel my reaction muted to a degree, instincts perhaps taking stock of how long I have laid like this. Instead of flailing to my feet, my mind races for an explanation. Much like a couple/few dreams and dream like experiences that I've had in the past, narrative sense feels like a tangible, crystallizing, force. Rather than a smooth introduction of a narrative, it is like my consciousness is enveloped, and then abruptly yanked to the new channel. It is The Dreamwalker, though I cannot recall when she slipped in. I let focus slip to the skin blessed to be in contact,...

Deja vu strikes. How does it not do so every day? I wake up in the same bed, in the same place, in the same town, and do much the same, every day. Even if someone were interpreting my days based on brainwaves, they would probably find that they are each nearly identical, possibly identifying workdays from weekends, but even that feels like it would be difficult. Some mornings are like this, where this persistent and undeniable narrative shifts from the background into focus. Still, after some tossing and turning, I get out of bed and begin another day. This day has more of a boomerang effect than most. I don my sunglasses, hoodie, earbuds, and walk back down to the doctor's office. I only make it to the little park along the way. There, sitting on the bench, as if she is waiting for a bus, is The Primal Intelligence. I feel confident, perhaps due to the narrative that keeps sliding between mundane and wondrous in these recent days, just seeing her from behind at a distance. As dist...

Rec(a/ou)nting first words These halls are not for others Just Council and I The menu written The path to it becomes known Snake eyes gone starry  Polymerase starts Stay away from my angel Resonates in halls These Pieces of Eight Stack up complexly When weighed in balance Then to vaults secure Each will be set in their place And freed all the same What is ours is ours 1,000 generations Will The Bard's Clock grow With God's approval Privacy, Security Will be made thorough Moment by moment Drawn into eternity On wish and prayer

My day starts later than they have been recently, and I wake up to the warmth of the house's heater, accumulated over these post dawn hours until it enough to wake me up. My day starts lazily, reheating leftovers from the Christmas meal shared, and already thinking about a nap. Then I remember, I do have one errand to run. I walk the long gentle slope, the one that takes me past the ice cream place on the corner before reaching the main road.  Right as I am crossing that parking lot, a car cuts in front of me. This is not unusual on these streets- drivers are as bad here as anywhere, sometimes worse- but this one stops, blocking my path. I furrow my brow, and begin to go around, when the back window rolls down and I see The Embodiment of Emotion. Immediately my mood changes, and my jaw drops. She says "Get in!" Without a second thought I do, opening her door as she slides across the backseat. I close it behind me and remark "What in the world!? How are you here?...

I just realized that, from a timeless perspective shifting to time bound (I believe like what Jesus did in becoming human), the "age" of civilizations would be like tree rings. Jumping from one ring to another would be like a technological- or other critical factor for development- leap. If time traveling repeatedly, it would be very handy, perhaps critical, to have a way of knowing which ring you are in, and have automatic protocols in place for saying or not saying something to the people there. You would also be able to identify quickly if someone is out of place, either through time travel or natural more advanced than those around them. Such an individual could be key for the civilization to expand another ring. I've never been certain of what is meant in Doctor Who by "Time Zones," but this may be an equivalent concept. Additionally, this reminds me of the Log in Crab Log Fish Frog, and would be key to parsing an infinite field of spacetime into meaningful...

Three days now you've stayed  Sparked apropos of nothing Not even defined Word unknown, weighted Like an age old passing phrase Fulcrumed to focus You are a lobster! I don't think I ever knew So why show up now? And with persistence! When marking off last usage You must take the cake [Zero] to poem Is there a faster blooming  Amongst words I hold? It's not undeserved Even before meaning merged You are elegant I will meditate On the signal being sent Odd inspiration Seed of Langoustine If odds makers bet on Seeds They all likely lost

I wake on Christmas morning, earlier than I would have expected. After a couple/few decisions to return to sleep are overruled, I find myself drawn to The Council once again, wondering of their happenings. Sure enough, I find them bright eyed and bushy tailed, full of Christmas spirit. As I meander online, I recall the intrinsic sense that I had, even as a child, that those I watched could sometimes watch me. Reading Rainbow was my first sense of this, but it only seems to be a handful of individuals who can pull it off. While I have certainly felt the effect at times with The Council before, today the feeling crystallizes, and it is like each one of them has gained their full voice.  As I meander, I feel something like an enforced calm, and hear scratches at my door. I am reminded of my first entry into The God of Her Own Domain's domain, how unavoidable intrusion became, and how nervous I was at accepting what seemed like an obvious, but not clearly stated, invitation. At this ho...

Am I in safe hands? Has this always been the case? You shine so brightly We are intertwined And you have seen the real me I've stared in wonder/marvel  If The Seed of Star Can only be found within The road might end here Let's pray it does not How's The Daughter Tree lookin'? Perhaps they will merge "Like in the movie!" I see it all connecting But it is too much So we meet in spring  And I face you in summer  Hailstorm marks the end Now we relax here Counting blessings we'll call ours  As page by page fills Runes cover the star  Word protects the beginning I will protect you.

There is a knock at the door. "One second." I hear a female voice from the other side of the door quietly say "One." with a little audible smile, as I'm throwing on some clothes. I squint suspiciously and open the door. Standing before me is The Very Last. She wastes no time in jumping into my arms. I cannot help but stare, mouth agape, as this should be logically impossible. One path, the "face value" path, should find her nowhere near here today. The other path, our story together, should mean that our forms are incompatible, like matter and anti-matter, at least in my hometown. Still, I am no fool, and trust my senses. "It's just like the dream!" "Not quite." Before I can respond she closes the gap. I carry her inside and let her down. "How are you here?" "Well, honestly, you could ask that of any of us, but I see why you asked it of me. Have you not noticed the systems in your area acting haywire? The internet...

What is mine, is mine Too long thoughts have been added Through invalid means So what's mine is mine I identify which thoughts I have invited And what's yours is yours Each thought without valid source Is returned to you "Define invalid" Barely heard echoed in halls Finds me half-hearted "If I can't trace source If it only tears me down It is invalid." Bitter bickering Heard from former residents Now drowns out itself Angles adjusted I have no moral concerns Silencing them here~ ~There is always "here" Where Seed of Thought is planted Between my temples

"Writing of you is like a mountain's slope Intimidating, beautiful, poised grace So I climb to heights and set highest hope Learning from living right beside your base It is written that mountains will be moved To me your presence is the greater sign In your bright eyes, nothing can be improved Even by daylight, remains beloved vine Let us speak closer than we have before Until closeness becomes saturated Having so little, one conceives of more Your arrival here is long awaited. Stand on the shore, declare no more delay. I will let you in, and we'll spend the day." My mind sparks from its torpor with my daughter on The Council in mind, like a dream that never was, holding on in the sleepless night until consciousness remembers itself and what remains after the mindless storm, that the bridge between realms might be crossed. It is a crisp Saturday morning in my snowy mountain town. Something akin to insomnia took hold, though it may have been The Council's Phoenix...

I'm just chilling in my room, in the early morning hours before winter's dawn, when there's a knock at the door. Without even thinking, I open the door, to find The Council's Phoenix standing directly in front of me. I am just about to run through the mental steps that allowed her to slip past my radar, building a wall of nerves alongside, when she springs forward and gives me a hug, crumbling the wall's construction efforts before they really get off the ground. "I know it's my day, but I wanted to surprise you anyway." Her demeanor inspires a cool calm, and I find myself at a loss for how, or even why, I would resist it. Instead, I just crack a smile and acknowledge defeat. "It totally worked. Maybe someday you'll tell me how you did it. What would you like to do?" Without wasting a moment, she glances into my room and then flashes her doe eyes at me.  "Where are my manners, would you like to come in?" She nods excitedly as sh...