lapping in layers of subliminal breeze.
yet her stirring emotions dove deeper still,
fathoming the reaches of more profound seas.
through the crepe filter she had come to see
how her odd little friends with their curious ways
had filled the fissures of her ill-starred heart
in the unnoticed passing of unheeded days.
the residue of reticence crumbled.
but she felt no desire to shore up defense.
for the gentle nature she'd sought to protect
was tugged by a love growing fierce and immense.
flush with a fresh, undaunted expression
discarding the artifice by which she'd been raised
she summoned Sylvana's openhanded valour,
her psyche exposed, yet somehow unfazed.
spurred by her part in provoking the queen,
piqued by the scheme that occasioned isolation
she scoured the skeins of shrouded cognizance
dredging up pangs that defied consolation.
a subtle impression dimpled the surface,
evoking the glimmer of calls paid on dreams.
the gist was sifted in less than an instant
for slipping in sleep through subliminal seams.
*
the deer that were privy to her innermost thoughts
refused to desert the flower-draped bier.
in any hour and all types of weather
their depth of discernment weighed everything near.
field mice tended the floral adornments.
an enduring enchantment made light of the chore;
aglow like the wreath of magical roses,
their charms preserved by some esoteric lore.
when Guanyin descended through the anxious trees
a willow had lowered his tendril tower.
weaving supple moonlight into bark braids
she fashioned a cascading, candlestick bower.
the silhouette netting propelled by the sun
and the starry corona, harnessing night
were each the emblem of a sheltering spell
securing the vessel sundered from Sludge White.
Elsbeth found lodgings in a snug, lofty hollow
in a stately elm of just the right size,
abiding daylight respectably sleeping
while looking astonished with one of her eyes.
unnerved by the spookhouse amenities
the monkey snatched naps in the safety of the trees
whenever his mentor popped out of the fray
or bandied opinions with a dallying breeze.
the cottage was decked in blue and green ribbons
to flaunt the arrival of Aethelwort's Eve,
with a windsock slung from the weathervane
depicting his bountiful, replenishing sleeve.
the united front of Collective Curmudgeons
had managed to beat their projected time.
and they idled about and lolled in the bath,
soaking up atmosphere and washing off grime.
all of them visited the glittering grotto
though Sylvana was unable to stay,
hardly the first in the guild of lovestruck heroes
to strap their leather boots on feet of clay.
Sappy was staggered by the vast implications
of finding out his vision had been real.
and he gazed in wonder at the scudding clouds
till dusk lit the spokes of the Soothsayer's Wheel.
then everyone came out to renew the pledge
twining their hands in a meandering ring,
charging the air with carolling voices
and the tingling awe the rites of yore can bring.
and the wind was in reverential attendance
lifting fringes in a rapt elation,
as if to manifest Guanyin's request
to waft their wishes to the ends of creation.
the table was laid with the finest china
and the well-heeled silver skated on the plates.
breads had arisen in festive profusion,
jammed with honeyed almonds and sugary dates.
*
for Aethelwort had been a mendicant baker
peddling spiced loaves at Northumbrian fairs,
struck by the plight of a silent, armless boy
in the freakish attractions caged with the bears.
when a mishap sliced off his own right arm,
he was seized with purpose and wrapped it in a frond.
abducting the waif he slit a slight shoulder,
seeding the transplant in a love-leavened bond.
the limb put down roots in the stunted youth,
attaching itself to his sympathetic strings.
and he gradually learned how to wield it,
like a long dormant butterfly finding its wings.
and those who had profited from his misery
stemmed their losses by showing him the door.
wherefore he threw himself at Aethelwort's feet
in a mute appeal to serve him evermore.
"bide with me if it pleaseth thee" quoth he.
"but fealty is bondage in dutiful guise.
what wouldst thou say to a pair of arms serving
the brimming of kindness in four glinting eyes?"
and the severed sleeve from Aethelwort's frock
turned out to be a magical garment indeed,
drawing out whatever was sorely wanted
and giving to each according to his need.
roaming sylvan byways they plied their calling,
dispensing bounty from the back of a cart;
the synced up parts of St. Nick's archetype,
never crossing lists in the measuring of heart.
and the pledge was renewed every Aethelwort's eve
in hidden places that inspired souls
despite the edict forbidding observance
poured by every king on the smouldering coals.
to hold fast to Aethelwort's devotion
to the least amoung us in the sorriest plight.
to never discount the bits of ourselves
kindling every creature and lighting up the night.
to thwart the conceit of man-made boundaries,
the fencing of people and parcels of land.
to ever extend the span of a gifting
with the bold unfolding of a gifted hand.
*
Mock was the last to reach the crowded table
thanks to the pace of his shuffling, rustling gait,
his organic crutches readily appending
to the well-drenched framework wedged next to Nate.
a hybrid species had come into being,
a sardonic wit slinging slithering shoots;
an animated green man sprung from his scaffold
and rambling about on rummaging roots.
sensitive tendrils evolved into clothing,
a mossy fabric that covered awkward spots
where extremities lived in memory
ensnaring tactless eyes and tying tongues in knots.
a place was reserved on the table for Squint,
heaped with roasted chestnuts Rashful had prepared.
someone brought the otter a fishy saucer
for his motor skills were patently impaired.
Elsbeth coasted in through an open window
regally bristling and resplendently spruced,
the dinner guest of Sable and the sparrow
merrily ensconced on their mantelpiece roost.
Chester's slim detachment had taken a detour
which the glimrin had been loath to explain.
but Guanyin seemed to foresee this, saying
"the wind will tote them in, just prior to the rain."
from her seat by Weepy she pitched her voice,
sailing past laughter and the minstrel's silver trill.
"i invite you all to join me by the fire
once thirsts are sated and you've had your fill.
the currents of change may adeptly be tapped
where blithe spirits and buoyant humours abound.
this feels like a night for opening windows,
for stretching out space so the lost can be found."
before her words had a chance to sink in
or Weepy and the bard could pry their eyes apart
an ear-splitting squawk shattered the ambience,
shredding the air like an atom-splicing dart.
Rashful had barely pulled open the door
when Mary made her entrance in a sizzling din,
funereal cowl eternally flapping
and sea-green visage rippling in a grin.
"why, the little gnomes are having dinner!
my, but time flies! is it Aethelwort's already?
don't anyone get up on our account.
convivial mortals tend to be unsteady.
i see you’ve got guests. Mercy! it's thou in the flesh!
i read your message. naturally i'm here.
i thought that sparkling arbor had your touch.
such an apt setting for the shining one's bier."
she glanced through the doorway and rolled her stark eyes
as skeletal fingers curled around the jamb.
then a timorous skull abruptly appeared,
shivering dread like a sacrificial lamb.
"pardon my presumption, but Solomon's in tow.
he didn't have anything on just now.
i'll never forget how Anastasia dug him
back in her days as a commoner cow."
she let loose a lethal, piercing guffaw
and the monkey's paws covered his cowering head.
"the three of us are bound to stir up something.
perhaps, if we're lucky, we'll wake up the dead!"
Guanyin chuckled as she smoothed the monkey's fur
and passing him to Weepy, rose to her feet.
"your presence is a great relief, my dear.
and Solomon's always an existential treat."
still on the prowl for his nimble nemesis
the skeleton hearkened to muffled squeals.
and then the watchrug weaved itself about him,
wagging its tassels and tugging at his heels.
*
the birds dispersed as the mammals ambled in
like reticent mirrors of wakening grace,
their voices hushed and their heartbeats hastening
sensing a resonant, inhabited space.
the monkey made the rounds, handing out candles
dipped in deep amethyst and scented with sage.
then Guanyin invoked a blue-white brilliance,
a flaming intelligence of prodigious age.
cupped in her hands his countenance flickered
emitting tinted wisps of dancing, molten glass
as the two of them murmured in rustling tones
like intimate breezes in a sea of grass.
everyone in turn was brushed by the flame,
yielding to a summons they did not understand.
but seeing the tapers sparking around them
they knew they were links in a luminous stand.
the entity retired, ascending an arc
trailing falls of incandescent splashes
that lingered above their upturned faces,
dampening cheeks with the blink of dewy lashes;
condensing in droplets of myriad colors
and drifting down like atmospheric tears,
diffusing the singular impression
that kernels of wisdom had whistled past their ears.
Guanyin raised an arm, divining the ceiling
proceeding to sketch a conjectural square
a liquid light remnant tracing her motions
in pendent echoes igniting in the air,
etching a window of shimmering emerald
cutting a swath almost reaching the floor;
framing a sash for glimpsing dimension,
collapsing the hasp on a transcendental door.
billowing black shadows instantly emerged
obscuring the portal in an opaque haze
like inky camouflage masking a mollusk
spewing smoke faster than a furious blaze;
a devouring darkness rarely observed
in cloudiest night or loneliest distance,
an emptiness scaling a restless abyss
to snuff out trust in external existence.
the Stygian substance swiftly blotted out
the last illumined specks that strayed in its way
as if a black hole was trolling the window
voraciously searching for radiant prey.
the banshee glided into the chaos
screeching with abandon, making everyone duck
puffing a stream of searing, seething steam
that shriveled up the margins of tenebrous muck.
Guanyin paused, apparently listening.
but her lips unravelled an inaudible spell.
the fluorescent green took on a pearly sheen,
laying on the layers of a lacquered shell.
then fresh light filtered through her fanned out palms
as Mary popped out and the mantle divided.
the portal shuddered, flashing like a pulsar
and the ravenous thrust promptly subsided.
*
amidst the confusion Gropey crept to the frame
teetering on his toes to peer inside,
tipping while tugging at something cumbersome
that suddenly came loose and started to slide.
and rolling in a ball that picked up speed
as their somersaults nearly attained perfection,
Gropey clumped in Lumpy plowed into Solomon
scattering bones in every direction.
"oh, bother!" his jawbone dolefully exclaimed
from the jostling jumble struggling on the rug
where squirming vertebrae aspired to fuse
and humorous femurs exchanged a stiff hug.
erecting a sort of leapfrogging ladders,
clacking and scraping and oozing graveyard dust
a rickety scaffolding reared itself up
as everyone looked on, transfixed with disgust.
a procession of unhinged appendages
hauled themselves into a chorus line shuffle
thumping hollow tones on makeshift xylophones,
saddling the spine with a creaking kerfuffle.
as the rattling rib cage slowly unfolded
it squeezed out a wheezing, torturous sound,
reminiscent of croaking accordions
or flatulent ghosts haunting frack-riddled ground.
sockets interlocked in spindly symmetry
rigging up a sinewy Chinese puzzle
in a dangling homage to rotting tissues,
lapsed ligaments, and memories of muscle.
kindred clicking digits emulated Zen
with their grim union of astral adhesion,
fostering factions of festering phalanxes
in synchronized, disjointed cohesion.
the whole contraption spun from centrifugal force
settling rigid grooves in slippery sync,
enabling his penchant for jiggling gestures
and the latent leaning to shimmy and slink.
and crowning the feat with a nauseating crunch
the skull was scooped up and plunked into place.
as Solomon coughed and spit out a maggot,
a winsome, fractured grin unfastened his face.
*
Gropey was already back at the portal,
his wobbling legs protruding from the frame
the rest of him covered in hovering absence
restively yearning for more of the same.
as Mortimer and Nate latched onto his feet
to anchor the transcendental tug of war
Guanyin adjusted her receptive head,
startled by a presence beyond the trembling door.
but Pally was already upon them
reflecting the candles with the flames in his eyes,
blushing at Nate from the folds of his cape
as the circle erupted in jubilant cries.
pivoting about he pitched in with Gropey
angling for an object still hidden from sight.
and together they managed the arduous task
of lifting the mirror into the light.
with the minstrel and carpenter's bolstering heft
they placed him on a plinth of antique brass
where he swivelled for a moment, seeking balance
till a lilac sigh pervaded the glass.
polishing a smudge with the fringe of his cape
Pally said "you're safe 'ere, me redemptive friend."
he ran his fingers along a deep scar.
"mayhaps away from 'er you'll 'ave a chance to mend."
and seeming to confirm the time-honoured adage
the demon bespoken forthwith appeared.
for the queen herself loomed out of the portal
pinpointed the mirror, and lividly leered.
reacting to the banshee's unnerving shriek
Anastasia flinched, thrown off her steely guard.
and thoroughly scanning all of their faces
her eyes flung darts at Sylvana and the bard.
arrows of flame sparked from Guanyin's taper
engulfing the frame in a detonating flash
that rent the room with ricocheting thunder
and crushed liquid light into sifting green ash.
in the silence that followed Solomon whimpered
for he'd nearly been frightened back from death.
yet no trace remained of the uninvited
and everyone slowly recovered their breath.
Pally and Nate were plucked from their rapture
by the prickling sensation of Mock's pressing eyes,
staying their swaying when he asked "where's Gramps?"
in a panicked, fragile voice he couldn't disguise.
Nate responded to tensing trepidation
enfolding Mock in the solace of their arms
while Pally laid bare the soul-rending rupture,
coating its harshness with tenderhearted charms.
silently Weepy came up behind them
cannily attuned to the tides affecting Mock,
that scrappy delinquent who'd scraped up supper
for migrants starving on an indifferent dock.
the self-starting candles darkened the room
and then, one at a time lit up in succession
bequeathing a sacred travelling flame
to wreathe the bereaved in a haloed procession.
*
later that night in the slumbering forest
Guanyin drew down dust from the wandering stars
restoring the mirror's mercurial surface,
healing his prisms and sealing his scars.
her simian apprentice crouched by her side
steeping a chalice in the moon's reflection
its kindred essence rippling and gleaming,
exhaling the mists of its primal protection.
and this potion bestowed lucidity
ladling luster where the elixir trickled,
a lunar aurora shimmering in streaks
while quivering squeaks suggested it tickled.
but the stellar windfall was the parsing of paths,
the gift for projecting a journey's end;
a timeless aligning of parting particles
in patterns plotted from whence they might wend.
and the novice barely smudged the surface
in tilting it back to its upright position.
yet a tropical vista swiftly unfurled
for touch was the key to start the ignition.
and the misty-eyed monkey cooed with longing
as mislaid memories stumbled into view.
then the prospect frosted with twinkling beacons
skimming icy depths of lonely, midnight blue.
*
the vigil of braided incandescence
was swimming through a lens of intervening grief
for Sylvana resisted acquiescence
clutching tattered hope like an obstinate leaf;
unwilling to renounce unattainable love
achingly at hand, yet out of her reach,
debris from her dreams and crashing emotions
stranded on a shifting, time-encrusting beach.
kneeling in the mingling amethyst shadows
where residual loss had managed to seep,
she ceded reason to the crickets' drone
and reeling into rhythm, rocked herself to sleep.
a whispered silhouette darted through the arbor
as an ivory owl glided by,
dazzled by the moon's commiserating rays
stringing the pearls that trickled from her eye.
*
the dream began with a flurry of roses
constantly altering an ambient glow;
diaphanous swirls soundlessly descending,
pink satin petals collecting like snow.
and the princess was buffeted by flowers,
exalted by the deer's devotional dance;
held aloft like a venerated icon
that skirted the earth in a somnolent trance.
Sylvana was perched upon her shoulder
rooted in the angles of a spindly legged bird,
her impassive awareness in dreamtime
readily accepting what reason deemed absurd.
and her heart was beating with wings of its own
at strange liquid words her beloved had said,
like sunlight spilling out of the horizon
leaking tidings that her future wasn't dead.
the herd revived their beguiling patterns,
that same arcane ballet she'd seen them do for Hearn
repeating an ineffable lesson
some lyrical muse must have thought she ought to learn.
her fellow birds delighted in circles
attuned to a cadence beyond the range of sound
scudding crinkled leaves into a whirlwind,
redistributing the surface of the ground.
a tremor shivered her ambling foundation
as Sludge White abruptly opened her eyes
flooding the warmth of a riveting gaze
on her dauntless protector in avian guise.
and it suddenly dawned on Sylvana
that this abstract tapestry was framed for her sake,
a subtle stitching of sentient seams
contrived by a presence compellingly awake.
arousing the rosy, silk-strewn ether
a brush of Pasty's fingers dusted off a kiss.
and at that precise moment Sylvana awoke
tossed up on a wave of exquisite bliss.
*
Weepy waited in the star-crossed brambles
tangled in shadows of illuminated lace,
his lavish supply of limitless compassion
glinting in streaks on his radiant face.
caretaking deer had gathered behind him
heeding a consensus beyond the humans' ken
to shepherd the lingering, lumbering primates
back to their somber, unsettling den.
and stillness descended like a blanket
caressing the willows and the glimmering bier
cooling the cheek of the sleeping princess,
consoling the advance of a diffident tear.
as the crickets' itinerant psalm subsided
the burrowing creatures tucked themselves in,
lulled by their mother's intimate whispers
cradled in the harbor abiding in her skin.
*
elsewhere in the realms of blunted distinction
in the ransacked fissures of a barren vein
a lapsing cathedral sagged on its arches,
interred by the folly of immoral gain.
the sulking ogre emerged from a casket
blearily leering with his single crazed eye,
unhinged by a living visitation
disrupting the seclusion of his blood-stained sty.
the spindly dame poised on a silver thread
her silhouette a nightmare writhing on a blade,
enhanced by Chester's smouldering projection
distracting the wrath of the shape shifting shade.
while the glimrin soothed and wooed the wee ones,
brooding on lullabies in hopes that they'd settle
Sleazy squinted and brandished his giggles
attempting to bolster his tenuous mettle.
he couldn't make out what Chester fathomed
in the vibrating coffer confounding his eyes.
the unnerving shadow had addled his reason
scattering senses and shivering thighs.
a clamour rang out from somewhere above them,
the stables of terror trotting out their might;
the clanging of anvils and bluff barks of men,
an onset of madness assaulting the night.
but the spirals were already forming,
the embers imbuing their cerulean hue.
and bounding off with the chest of progeny
Sleazy and the spider were shunted from view.
*
the first rays of sunlight splintered the spookhouse,
slanting through windows and skidding under doors;
inciting electrons and dozing dust mites,
shedding on surfaces and seeping through pores.
as Elsbeth and the monkey settled in their nooks
snatches of birdsong elated the air.
the mage of mercy released a laden sigh,
relaxing the grip on her unruffled chair.
*
dragging snagged thoughts from the dim rim of memory,
raking embers burning out in his head
the scratching at last tugged him to consciousness
and the gentle carpenter sat up in bed.
glancing at the dawn glazing Pally's face,
the hint of placid grace that wasn't there before
he freed his fingers from their trusting clasp
and gingerly tiptoed across the creaking floor.
it took him a moment to register
the slight, spry figure of Squint the cheeky squirrel,
tucked in his haunches and angling his gaze
absently primping his quizzical curl.
winking from the threshold betwixt his rumpled toes
a small pink tourmaline beamed like a star
instantly ensnaring Nate's attention,
an elliptical omen unearthing a scar.
"good morrow, good fellow." Squint flapped his tail.
"i'm tendering tidings of a pressing behest."
and pausing to consider Nate's tousled hair
"i entreat your pardon for scratching your nest.
the hedge witch suggests an amulet be crafted,
a flute of white pine to house this fey stone.
'tis a remedy for instruments fell,
dispelling the sundering to which they are prone.
she says if you're willing you ought to get on
for the day holds promise from scant to nary.
the ghost of a chance is nigh upon us
and the fates are grudging to those who would tarry."
weighing the pebble in his calloused palm
Nate blinked as he pondered the inauspicious drift.
then, shrugging his shoulders he nodded assent,
concealing from sight the seer's peerless gift.
*
his heady scent amidst the pungent pines,
the scrape of fallen branches culled from the forest
jolted Pally to wake up and wonder
when the fence round their senses came to be porous.
*
the loftier perspective escorting Weepy
unveiled new depths in his empathic dreams
detecting the children of ByWater Landing
buoying Pally's soul and bursting its seams.
on returning he sensed a tense dissension.
the avian chorus was fringed with shrill strain.
and the dissonance seemed to draw nearer
instilling blithe chatter with its burden of bane.
he hastily donned his battered poncho
and beckoning the otter with gurgling clicks,
they rode the heels of retreating shadows
while the self starting candles were still trimming wicks.
*
[and thus we leave our uncertain heroes,
on the cusp of an ill-fated morning;
their last in the veil of freighted illusion,
where endings all seek a way to begin.]
*
- Evan Hawthorn, the 31st of October, 2018
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