An elephant called Iris

A dream was wrought last night

a sleepless remmy sleep

with messages on the minute

about a house upon the keep,

there they stood as many

watching from the far

waiting for my absence

ascending fallen stars,

rising through the loophole

plans all set to fire

touching upon the faithless

upon their waking hour,

have you yet to awaken

to know that they exist

prepare your finest oil

or get caught up in the mix.

The lore of Nin-To

There is a Goddess of Little re-known, a Goddess who sits at the side and in the shadow of all the great Deities above her. She is humble and quiet and keeps to herself; her name is NinTo. She lives in the lush, thick of the forests, and when she is sad she howls shaking the mountains on high; and when she is happy the summer skies will weep with joy. NinTo has become a gardener of the wild, and some of the strange creatures of nature are attributed to her, the Star Nosed Mole, the Tufted Deer, and the Narwhal, to name a few. Her personal pet is the black Stag with horns that are said to poke the sky itself, it is also said that because of this we have the stars, which are peek holes into the heavens.
What makes this goddess so unusual you ask?

Well the Goddess NinTo was born with, thats right, Nine Toes. She is usually gentle and loving, however in the heat of battle something happens. Her ninth toe will pop off and grow into a huge serpent like dragon with two heads, one head spews the hottest flames of fire, and the other the coldest shards of ice. After the battle each of the serpent heads devour the Goddess NinTo, they tear her right in half, each taking their fill. Once filled they are immediately calmed and transformed back into the Goddess herself, made whole once more.

Its because of this display that she has become such a lesser Deity, she has no radiant splendor as most of the other Gods do, no glorious tales of re-known…. Just a ninth toe, a two headed serpent that pops from that toe and then will eat her, and become her.

But she also has some of the most unique and varied creative species of life.

Ticking chimes of restful sleep

Upon the wavering of the crime

sat still the wanting crying chime,

that knelt the fallen play;

for to the pray of many cards

were hands adorn with many scars,

over wanting a needing way;

and to the wrecking tethered ball

the song of lies played out for all,

over many a sleeping prey.

Lo here, Lo there

In the wee hours of the morn

they can be heard

a song long far off

crying to the sorrows

a flash in the night

to the wayward ears

of another sullen day

as they that squeal

trod aneath the pearl’s

with a sneer

each thinking

to know the way.

In our time

There is a woody softness to her tone

like the warm song of music fills a room,

her eyes reflect the light leaning in

and that blue fills my sky with her smile,

as the wind comes in gentle waves

she too moves across the space of time,

gently touching me with her grace

her silky hand upon my cheek;

“and I love you too.”

Enduring lullaby

There died a girl named lullaby

who swore to find the day

and in the end when all was said

her feet had lost their way,

as young as old can be

the spiny tendril meet

each gaze upon a falling star

tread over upon the street,

her dreams were songs of fading

of tales that crossed her play

where one to one they stood the call

crying out her end of day,

but lullaby turned her sighs away

covered her ears to block the clashes

and there today she is standing still

suffering lightnings lashes.

Strings attached

Just an empty page to fill

a clean and solitary place

thoughts along the margin

some in upper case,

a writers blank to take a note

precious moments in their time

tears that tap across a page

the heavy returns of paradigm.