Creative writing by April-Anna, March 4th, 2013
Continued from Lódrúne at the Crossroads:
http://theartofapril-anna.blogspot.ca/2013/02/lodrune-at-crossroads.html
"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...
Ancients morph, times cycle through, she never stays the same as she makes her way through time, she sees the cycles, patterns of the weave... She's listening through dreams, transitioning through time...
One day, she awakens with a shock, the moon's daughter has awoken, surfacing, puzzle pieces coming together over time... Letting go, the oracle sees, the oracle hears, the oracle feels, the oracle breaths, the oracle speaks.... Spirits are whispering... There's a caw on the winds, wings are heard overhead...
Du muze is walking away from the old witche of the river, he is leaving the old women behind at the crossroads, walking away from the crossroads, he walked a long road... The moon's shadow at his back, the black wolf silently follows, just outside of the peripheral, the raven watches... and this piper keeps singing, walking along the road at night, he's singing, the stars are so bright...
The mysteries are listening as the spirits whisper to one another; did he ever hear the tale that the olde people told? There once was a black wolf and a white wolf, then the black wolf ate the white wolf, not knowing the joke was on the black wolf, the white wolf allowed itself to be absorbed.... The black wolf was pleased... The wolf you feed is the wolf that wins... at least, this is what the black wolf believes....
The moon's daughter is awakening, she's been wandering, following the spirit winds, she listens to the spirit winds, she rides the spirit winds.... Surfacing crystal clear, awake and asleep, asleep and awake, awake and asleep, she awakens... but after the first time, you never really go back to sleep when time is unraveling...
Call your energy home, call yourself home, center the soul, awaken the soul, walk with truth and clarity, as consciousness hits the ground, hit the ground running... The winds have been changing directions, first they go this way, then they go that way.... Like a leaf on the wind, one can never be sure where they will end up, but isn't that part of the fun? One says to the other, one must remember we came here for the adventures.....
So once upon a dream; when first awakening, the moons' daughter was greatly confused, such is how things go when ancients come out of the deep dark sleep..... Cycles of time unwind, through cycles of time she moved, through cycles of time she moves, through cycles of time she arrives, like a shape shifter, taking one form after another, never the same, yet much carries through, these echoes we can't escape....
So ride the river, move with the wind, dance with the fey lights....
One day, in another time and yet the same place, the moon's daughter lived on the edge of the forest with the Sphynx and Luna... Ancients coming awake, over time realizing, unwinds, she doesn't know her own power, she doesn't know all that she is.... She had no idea the power of her mind, she had no idea, much like a child who does not know it's own strength, she never knew she frightened anyone...
It broke her heart when she heard the news; truly, her heart is a gentle one, she would never intentionally harm an ant, even when they were biting her... Darn red ants, don't they know, they can't have all the blackberries on the bush? Sharing is good.... Sharing brings abundance to all, but some do not know this, what do you do when the world is driven mad with greed?
In the very near and far, he arrived at the end of summer, he arrived on the winds of the warm islands, another brother from lifetimes before... The hour was growing late, the party had started, the moon's daughter witnessed the many star crossed lover's uniting... a warrior, he came to find his lover, his lover is kindred to the moon's daughter... His lover was the warrior sister who initiated the moon's daughter in the eight trigram palm... The warrior had never met this sister from another lifetime, but he remembered her, recognized her soul, names hold power, the mysteries hummed when he spoke to her another name, helping time unwind.... another sign of the tribes gathering....
Ancient memory is a fuzzy thing... The warrior from the warm islands, he sees the moon's daughter and names her of the volcanoes of his homeland, he names her for the fires he sees within her... so many names through time and space, so many incarnations, how can one even keep track?
The moon's daughter sighs, she won't let one time and place define her... as time unwinds, the story is only just beginning.... turn the page, turn the page, what will happen next? what will happen next? The mysteries whisper to the spirits..... "
Showing posts with label #author. Show all posts
Showing posts with label #author. Show all posts
Monday, March 4, 2013
Friday, February 15, 2013
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...
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...
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