Creative Writing

In Dreaming….

Once upon the mists of time, we wandered off the beaten path. The trees shivered with a gentle light; a kindred to a flame in the night.We listened to the stories that Gaia told when the River sang to the Moon.

She told us once of a time in the long ago, which direction, she did not know. By the four corners she said they would come, one to meet the other, brothers and sisters, meeting for the first time again and again; brothers sisters who always knew without knowing.

One day, brothers and sisters; they fight and Gaia cries from the confines of her dreams. Worlds change and swirl and one day we come into a time new and familiar both; a time when the trees, you can barely hear their dreams and their gentle light has gone out.

The Ancients are asleep and the land is tearing up; Gaia whispers in our dreams …change, I feel a change in the winds; the directions are coming together …for the dreams speak; speak of a chance to change the world…let’s tell our stories, stories of the ever in the in between of the long ago ……

So the stars do dance with the spirit lights, while raven follows the moon’s daughter down to the waterside …awake awake …so they followed the sound …the wild ones danced and played …the muses woke the Sphynx, while Luna ‘s children whispered and sang into the wind… by mountain and river; the calling on, the calling out…

 

Oblong Echo

If fuzzy memory serves me, I think I would have written this creative writing piece in the autumn of 2004… Except that I haven’t taken the time to do so, (other then the first painting), I’d like to turn this into a graphic novel of some kind perhaps at some point. I did take the time in 2005 to break it down into pages, in terms of lay-out and was trying to plan out the images but if I were to follow through with the project I had in mind, I think I would need to create around 50 paintings or multi-media images.

Oblong Echo

I found out what happens when you jump down the hole that Alice found…
Follow the white rabbit… I followed a snail instead
Rather the snail that changed and shifted…
Through room after room I became bigger and smaller
Never fall but fall forever until you meet yourself in the beginning…
it never happened because it always happened
meeting yourself in the mirror
never ending never ending never beginning so that it could happen
But something strange, something strange
something random and true
walk through the mirror
and can it ever feel true because it begins if it ends and it ends
when it begins
can it begin if it never ends
I will continue to do the things that I did as a child
I am all ages at once
And in comes the oblong man
Wobbling in an oblong way
Dickering and dackering,
dealing with the pecker checker
Questions create answers strange
open doors in walls between
when it rings
rooting and roving
water the well
help it grow help it grow
Exchange life for death
Exchange death for life
Exchange
Lift high fly high live forever life
Am I the wandering fool
Wandering wondering learning
Diving in
Am I the wandering fool
who strolls where others fear to stride
Follow the sound of the river
Dive in the well dive in
Follow the flow of the river
Keep balance walking in an oblong way
Wander away slide, slide away slide
Roving flowing following the gypsy ghost lights
down towards the light
at the bottom there is something shiney
swimming something shiney
something shines
swim something shines and winks at me
reaching hands toward the light
Reawaken
Wake the fire within
Stars above
Dance all night
Stars above
The rabbit hole
Where does it end up
The hole that doesn’t end
wanders around around doesn’t end
Wandering round around sound surround resound
Swimming resounding around the light
Catch the light
Wander awake
I can see sleep walkers
Wake up
I am awake
Walking through the mirror
The dream that never ends
Doorway
This is twighlight
Twigs and wigs will settle down
able to the maple tree
dance between
flanked by hot and cold and the winds that blow away
leaves and blades
the blade that doesn’t cut
found the blade that cuts
and the trail echoed through centuries
illusion or delusion
which side of the mirror did you come from anyway?
Which side of the moon watches you sleep?
Does the moon watch you wake?
Watch the sun; does it turn you blind?
Which side of the sun do you like better?
I prefer all directions at once
All elements at once
I am the dancing shadow
She who dreams and whispers in the in between
She who helps the dead man cross over
The river styx was my childhood companion
And I know and I speak with the river man
He speaks to me when I sleep
And sings to me when I am awake
I fall into his voice likened to the murmur of the river
As I walk through the mirror chasing mirrors
falling through mirrors
I awake
Light in my eyes
Can’t see
Too bright
Light in my eyes
And the walls are closing in
When I awake at night
I like the night because then I can see the lights
Swimming towards the bottom
I find the river
Sister pulls me aside
Air that lifts
lifts me high
Coming towards the earth
I fall awake
I awake
Fallen through the mirror of myself
I awake
And find myself likened to the marionette
Marionette
These programs choke and rip while they winde in the wind
I like Marionette when she’s stands 12 feet tall and opens her eyes
The program that bends programs that bind
Laughter dances across the web
Marionette is bending like music
bends with the oblong man living beneath the leaves that weave above
laughing water
the river man awoke the marionette when he set fire to her strings
fire danced burn away strings that bind and winde
little wee ones chide the childe
so what did the wandering well tell me when it whispered away in the
wind that wound?
Don’t be afraid of the spirit fires that burn from within
The spirit of time is nothing when sped by the spirit of love
Love that has lit the fire within the water
the fire that doesn’t drown and dances with life
it is moon fire
dancing like the snake charmer’s eyes when laughter reveals the wisdom of tides
I and me and myself walked backwards following the flow of the river
Breaking through the mirror
The moon and the sun were one
when the oblong man stood in the sand and sang to the tides
tides that turn and spin like the light within
and I dare not swim to awake in my bed
I don’t want to be safe within the dream
I want to live in Rabbit’s hole that looks so black from afar
go within it is light and whole
And dreams got caught in my mouth when I tried to speak
And I fall
Through the dream
That falls through my mouth
When I tried to speak
And I never stopped loving you
touched the moss around my feet
caress the air I sing
swim the seven seas
flying through the dreams
tend my fires so I won’t stumble in dreams that tumble
happily ever after happens somehow
go between when it never ends echoing on and on ever in the in between
of the undertow
the candle fell
in the house that never was
stars twinkling twirling and whirling falling forever
landed in the field that didn’t end
in the vision of the dream in the secret forest
Pandora’s box was hidden in the basement of the house that never was
that landed in the field that didn’t end in the vision of the dream in
the secret grove where they tore down the trees to build the house to
fill with greed and bleed the man that never dies
And the man stood on the box
Stood on the box that lives in the house that hid
And Pandora’s box silently screamed in the dream that keeps you sane
And it doesn’t end because it didn’t begin
Listen like the oblong man
Swim between
The walls are breaking down the box
Programs that bend and sway in the wind
when the marionette burns her strings
singing
dreams stumble from my mouth when I try to speak
sitting
I watch the Cheshire cat
Watching
I sit on top of the mirror
Dreams tumble from my mouth when I try to speak
When I try to speak
When I try to speak
Dreams topple from my mouth when I try to speak
When I try to speak
When I try to speak
Echo
Never ending because it never begins because it never ends
Flow away, drift away, caught in the currents
Tales that never end
Echo
The mystery is calling out
Dreams that tumble from my mouth when I try to speak…
Echo
…and it never ends and it never ends and it….
Echo
Dreams get caught in my mouth when I try to speak
I am she who dreams forever because it never ends
Never ends
Cycle the dreams of seasons of changing spirit alignment
And the mystery fell from my mouth when I tried to speak
Who will save the fire when the candle falls

I am the marionette
Who will catch me when I cut my strings
Will I fall or can I stand on my own
It’s the question at hand
I never choose to be a marionette
But somehow the dreams that fall from my mouth
Caught around my ankles and I begin to swim
And something pulled me into the current and I lost adrift
In an open sea that caught me and tossed me
I am the marionette
Coming into realization of being
We are
all really one
of many of one of many of one of many
And we seem to contradict ourselves
But existence defies itself
And I am the marionette
Dance and you will set yourself free
Because the strings can only twist and tighten so much
Before they snap
And I am the marionette woken by the keys

And I can try
and will try
Until the winds find their home
How erratic
It was perfectly timed

 

 Twilight Between Sound

 

I am not actually sure what year it was when I first wrote this, but I think it was in 2004, possibly 2003 but I can’t really remember for sure. I had been working on developing it into a stage production but have since dropped that due to hurtles I was running into at the time. Who knows, maybe I’ll dust off the stage version again at a later date…. We’ll see where the river flows…

TWILIGHT BETWEEN SOUND
In the twilight between sound
The place that is the beginning and the end
The end that is the beginning…
The place that is everything and nothing
A place that is so full of sound
It is silent
In thought, and, memory….

In twilight
We dream
This is where we live
In twilight
We live
Because this is where we dream
In twilight

We are…

This is where our hearts live
This is where our souls create
In dreaming I die to live

Between twighlight and stars,
Between sun, moon, and earth,
Between sunset and sunrise,
Between shadow and mist;
In between time and thought…

To rise
A conversation
Between energy now called stars
A dream
Between time,
where the birth of all things exists;
In a dance of our minds
The vibration is the experience

In dreaming
A conversation
Between energies
We dance
This is where are souls live
We dream
We dance

Twilight
GodS create
Made in the image of
Souls create
Made in the image of
We create

A conversation
Between minds
Between energies
We dance
Between dreams
Between time
Dance

A conversation
Some would say that raven made the world one day
But raven and crow talk in riddles and mysteries
They contradict themselves
Raven is mischief, wisdom and creation
Crow is justice, laughter and wisdom

One day a creature laughed
A creature that knew not what it was
It was both white and it was black but never both
A creature that would one day be called raven
It danced with joy at this new feeling
This skin
It had acquired
This was kNew
Coyote used talk about it
But Coyote wasn’t’ always known for telling a straight tale
This creature on a journey to self discovery
An ancient babe
An energy within Skin
And raven danced and danced and laughed one day
And out popped
A squawk
And feathers a lot
A little joke raven played on itself
Little one to tease and taunt him
And Crow gave a squawk and a laugh
And off he was
New adventures between sound and twilight

 

Lódrúne at the Crossroads

Creative writing by April-Anna, Feb, 15th, 2013.

Once upon a time in a place between dreams, there was a young man, du muze, he whistled his sweet sound, like the piper, he called them to awaken… He called all, friends of olde & loved ones too, he called her, he called her to awaken… Through cycles of time, he called, called them, he called so loudly that even the ancients rumbled in their sleep…. the calling… now, now, to awake….

But the spirits, they did whisper to one another, did he really know what he played with? Courage or great folly? How could this one, half asleep as he was, awaken the olde ones? So the spirits, they couldn’t turn away…. and watch the spirits did, they watched as he wandered towards the crossroads…

He thought he was going to the crossroads to meet the old man, the trickster. He thought he would go and make a deal, but the old man only makes deals in wisdom,. So the old man, he talks to the olde woman of the river….

So du muze wanders towards the crossroads, with many adventures, he walks, half-sleep. The child within discovering the fire does indeed burn…

Which witch? Witch in the olde tongue means “women of wisdom”, but he would not see her for the truth, for the shadows had a hold of his eyes & heart. While he was still in control, he liked the silver tongue of the shadows…  He didn’t really think it would happen, he didn’t really think they would awaken, but like the trickster himself, he could not help but stir the cauldron of time… Du muze wanted to see for himself, he didn’t know what was real… Shadows were whispering..

Likened to the king listening to his most trusted of advisors, du muze went away where the shadows would lead him, he knew he would enjoy the journey, he said… They say you should choose your friends carefully…

So he’s walking towards the crossroads, the moon is high & full. He did not see but yet he did see…The gift to see through the veil , this is not a gift given lightly. But one must trust themselves in order to see truth with clarity, when looking through the veil…

As though the children were running to the call of the piper, the spirits are whispering to one another; “Does he know there are two crossroads? One laid over the other, appearing as one? One  lies in the shadowlands, and one in the moon’s fair light?”… Spirits are a whispering, one says to the other…. They wonder why he chooses the hard road, they wonder why he doesn’t choose the moon’s fair light?

Black butterflies are listening at the crossroads, watching at the cross roads, they hear the piper singing, they see the olde witch of the river, but they hear the moon’s daughter, she awakens with a start. She does not know her  own power, and her cries vibrate silent in the night…

The black butterflies alight, flew away into the night, left the crossroads behind, left du muze behind. The black butterflies seek out the moon’s daughter… She caught a midnight flower, and there was music on the wind, many musics on the wind, something sounds familiar…

She awoke alone, she thought, so she followed the sound, half-asleep, she followed the call, the calling, the calling on… She heard her own voice on the wind and the deep dark woods where the fey lights live, they found her on time, for they knew he would not meet her at the crossroads…

Oberon had left his post, following his inner du muzic, he forgot his other self, and the black wolf ate the white wolf… 

But it was alright, she couldn’t remember him anyways, at least, not until later on and even then, it’s fragments, puzzle pieces coming together over time… That’s the problem when ancients go to sleep and there’s always more to the picture then meets the eye….

Luckily, the black butterflies found the moon’s daughter down by the riverside, lost in her musings…

Now there was Lódrúne waiting at the crossroads… She sees the man approaching and she smiles a wicked smile for she can see he is not pleased to see her, this amuses the olde woman. She knows what he does not. The old trickster asked her to come in his stead, he deals deals in wisdom, but not everyone likes their hand, and sometimes they don’t learn their lessons…

So when the olde witch speaks, the stars go quiet and the lights dance, the moon leans a little closer, the dreams pause to listen and the Sphynx holds his tongue…

She says; “The road ahead is not what you think, do not be deceived and do not deceive yourself. While most things are not what they seem, you must have clarity to know when truth looks you in the eyes… Approach with open eyes, no fear in your your heart & you will never loose your way. Remember that the Phoenix always rises from the ashes, and in the darkest hour, this is when the light must be brightest. Carry a torch when you enter the shadowlands, pay a homage to the king & you will pass undisturbed. So stoke the fire within, light the candle, because all must carry the future forward…”

A pause, there is a caw in the night, something rustles in the woods, in the deep dark woods, spirits dancing, times unraveling, and she says; “The mysteries stir,”…

In the deep dark woods, a cry in the night, heard at the crossroads. The witch of the river gives du muze a funny look, & a deep chuckle; “Know that you do not know what you play with. For if you poke olde gods awake, do not expect to not meet them and do not expect that all will take kindly to the noise you make through time & space; while it is true, the fates say it is the time that the deep sleep of the ancients would come to an end, sometimes the messenger is not always treated kindly. Many stir…”

Lódrúne continues. “Once they are awake, they do not go back to sleep, they do not stay idle. Do not stir the cauldron of time if it is pure mischief or curiosity; your intentions must be pure or it will come back to bite you. Have honour, and if ever you loose your way, know that tomorrow is a new start, you can always come back to the crossroads, there is always a way back to the beginning, though it will never be the same. If you meet the olde man, wise & crafty, he will speak in riddles & tongues, he will lead you down the wrong road,  promising a good time, but be careful when following olde tricksters…. Even those dealing in wisdom.”

Once upon a time goes on and on…the tale isn’t finished, as she shakes off the cobwebs of sleep, the moon’s daughter has lit the candle, She Who Dreams is weaving the web, the story never stays the same…