a ritual night
reveals the loving pruning
of life –
from throngs of children who visited a false castle
to a night at last of only one tricker
(who is one)
who has never had candy
coming to the door
carried in her father’s colorful arms
receiving my full attention
and a bowl of sweet exchange –
all the wonderful death
that has led me to such a quiet night
can be said like this:
that witch is false
must die – also
that which is false
must die
no greater gift could there be
than this assurance –
in a winter garden
there can be no false flower
i’m a true beauty skeleton
a dry and crisping flower pressed
in the book of my life
brown more ravishing than red
until spring returns
wind rustles brittle, tall grass
crows call from trees
as me
Life as Improv 
I love how U write.
Rituals thousand kisses 4 U
🙂
Ooh, this is lovely Marga! Wondering which witch watched whilst wondrous words were woven?
There are just so many, wonderful Hariod; at times it’s hard to say, eh? Here’s a practice for me: who is that who who knows which witch is which? Asking that at the moon, here, until they all go away, eventually 🙂
Oh, how wonderful. So wise, so rare… so ripe.
You are still here. joy!
Lovely images, M, that capture the essence of fall. I particularly liked the skeleton of today’s dream, now dry and crisping, captured somewhere in the pages of the great book, as the season withers and consumes another chapter of upstart growth. And the crows say hello. It is too macabre. Was the summer but a dream after all???
Michael
Has the whirling dervish storm center settled for you, M? Such a treat to catch a moment as you reappear. Thought of D this week as I had a pounding head, sister sympathies there!
There is something so comforting in the direct gaze into the dark sometimes it seems to me. My lowered expectations in winter allow me to sink into comfort, help my eyes see the blackening edges of death as a different sort of beauty, and then the summer, with all its brightness and polish feels almost garish in contrast. I’m a fall. I’m a hot tea, blanket wrapped movie night, listening to the howling wind rattling the windows. Sending you continued ease through the storm! 🙂
Thank you, M. I like those hot tea, blanket-wrapped movie nights myself. I’m a little leery of the winter ahead, though, as last year’s snow accumulation about did us in up here. They say it could be more of the same this year, but we’ll see. But yes–! the direct gaze into the darkness… it can be both comforting and powerful. One of the upsides of the winter night is moments when the air is crisp, and our breath dissolves into the penumbra of the houselights behind us, and we look out into the pitch black forest, and time is frozen along with the land…
And thanks for thinking of D. Some hydration efforts may be helping, but it has been a chronic issue of late…
Enjoy your evening. Still whirling along here, caught in the current and able to see only as far as the next floating branch or sunken stone…
Michael
a sweet
healthy
treat 🙂
No trick,
after all.
🙂