Oak
"Oak"
The guardians
stood around and
shook their heads
great thoughts
quivering
from the ground, roots up,
as if to walk
confidently
with great armies
yet hesitation
was witnessed
in their waving gestures
perplexed
and touching
green crowns,
there they stood
solid, unmoving
hard headed
in their stance,
yet pliable, bending
like willows;
the whistling breeze
conversed its
bewilderment
at the verbosity
of the high
and mighty,
stood in groups, as if
in some great hall
of royal politics
waiting for the
summoning
of a king,
now they were
lobbying and seen
by the watchers,
spies
shrouded in indigo
remaining unseen,
strange hidden
stagnant and mulling
dark night creatures
waiting
for what next
to arrive?
in the centre
the moon bathed
its luminosity over
a great and mighty
scene, a pageantry
encroaching
the ever spreading
strange gathering
magnetically attracted
there, to a visage
central and
overpowering,
an ancient One, still standing,
much older than the others
surpassing even the age of time
an outstanding elder
if you will, rough barked,
yet speaking in hushed tones,
insisting patience
and understanding, the
gracious toleration of others,
without interference,
existing generous by nature
and a kinder acceptance
for the oddness of others,
which curiously
did not arrive easily,
nor naturally, from the others;
"this empathic
way of being
for all ghosts
who tread their path
in this strange
place of possessive poésie,"
advised this
central creature
speaking,
"I give you this, granted,
that for the haunted, haunting
is a most strange way of living,
yet the haunted,
they too, must play,
as the others play,
their transparent part,
shining
gossamer light
and messages
to light fires
for one the other,
to become
all in good time
so much more,
each the others' spark
and most necessary,"
the One speaking
relayed with authority,
"most significant of all,
the need for taking
communication in safe measure
with the dark night
and its hidden creatures,
also seeking relevance in it all"
these ghosts,
the firmer,
centrally placed proffered
were like will-o-the wisps,
lanterns carrying the hope
of the deferred living,
jangling their keys for seeing,
but majorily unseen
they went about their way
confused,
silent and
unheard
they walk
like zombies
methodically aimless
from world to world
room to room
thought to thought
and back again,
as if in never ending
waiting rooms
winding like worms
through revolving
in and out doors
of slippery subterranean
caverns, seeking answers
and closure, they traverse
opening and closing doors
to strange mysteries
not knowing,
who or
what they are,
little do they know,
they are
the strangest
mystery of all, by far
connections
to the all seeing
linked, arm-in-arm
yet, in the Bardo
here they don’t live
they merely exist
transparent,
each mirror to the other,
walking through the other,
shadows shadow seeking
in very strange manner,
ways in and out
to what’s
firmly planted
at central core;
the meaning of it all.
now planted centre stage
stopped speaking.
all were listening
to the great
Tree of Life
for more,
with its arms
outstretched
up to the sky,
as if to gather
in a legion,
like a flock of birds,
the hidden like spies
watched on and witnessed
the now arrived
the connected
connecting with
the all descending -
around its great
and gracious
extended limbs
it raised its hanging head
golden acorns adorned
its thorny crown
the all connected
were now descended,
all were swiftly planted
gathering around
to learn the answers
to such meaning;
wings in legions
boisterously beating
tattoo sounds
great military squadrons,
all the birds of the tree-rimmed sky
soliciting their opinions
a cacophony in agreement
with this grand master
some magick lesson for the feeding
now being imparted
to black winged nephilim
and ultra violet beings
scurrilous flying foxes
noble gryphons,
the incorrigible fey,
chasing unicorns
and hippogryphs
begging to save the day
fierce firebirds
alighting with
their nephele
riding wild
their competitive Pegasus
their hearts racing rapidly
the pugnacious Wyvern
the courage of dragons
scorpion tales to sting and tell,
all those gathered
bearing coat of arms
to what spoke at the centre,
a tree of heraldry
gifting the light of life
lux vitae,
the word
written in the
circling rings of time
"talismans turn keys
to gateways, don’t you know
this yet?" it said,
"such entry,
are the tokens
to closed books
for conquering
mistakes and fears
from riddled territories",
now the guardians
who stood firm
moved like life electric
through their fingertips
branching across
their indigo sky
they reached
to touch the stars
that spoke to them
glistening points of light, as if
beaming somewhere other
behind a fragile curtain
glimpses
to another world
another time
at the
great Oak’s feet,
talismans
3 golden acorns,
cast unique in brackish water
like old tears in a mossy field
amidst a sea
of sleeping others
in their warm fir blankets
their beech sheets of
prickly pine needles
astral and subliminal
holding onto mistletoe
as if to kiss
a dream awake
like sleeping beauties
looking for the bite
of a delicious life affirming apple,
like adam and eve
gone all lilith in bed with a snake,
they toss and turn in battle
3 golden acorns
like keys lost
to be found
their messages
hidden and
haunting
now taken up
with much
stranger creatures
hidden at the feet
of a gateway
begging not to be found;
The Oak bows to Yew,
“slips of Yew silvered
in the Moon’s eclipse,
necessary for the resurrect
through Yew,
the final gate,
what resides in Oak
will be found,
as if written in stone
through touch
feeling and hearing
intuition like sound
you will finally see,
better than early,
here late, is never too late,
you will see”
(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment