If I should wake to live another day
my soul would surely burst with boundless joy.
On pious knee I would fervently pray,
repentant soul would actively deploy.
A full day of blessèd atonement wide,
a soul on mission to pay its penance.
Rapidly strolling with refreshing stride,
repentance on recent fair countenance.
A purposeful action of ascesis,
my heart would be uplifted from its shame.
A length of golden thread from Lachesis
exonerating my well-deserved blame.
Freed from infernal Hell I gladly die,
blissful smile as my soul ascends the sky.
A life cut after time
alive and errors made
and lessons from sisters:
acceptance from Clotho -
a hand in weaving birth;
aware from Lachesis
that life is a wonder.
Part 2 - " Lily" / Kate Bush https://youtu.be/MWaqPOnR5wU
"The Red Shoes"
3
Pieces of Paper
A Line, A Cross, A Curve
HOME
Davenport
Ascot
…
3
Clotho
Lachesis
Atropos
Fate
or
Destiny
(LadyLabyrinth/2019)
llb, klb, mlb
"The Red Shoes" / Kate Bush
https://youtu.be/rbbPPy_bNM4
"Lily" / Kate Bush
https://youtu.be/MWaqPOnR5wU
“Liminal”
At the threshold point
where rite of passage holds a pearl
hierarchy is reversed within the realm of ambiguity
Girl into Woman
Woman into Girl
Dissolution of Order
Fluidity a small metaphorical death
A rite of separation from the past
Three graces
Three fates
Clotho spins
Lachesis deals
Atropos cuts
Another missing
watches her Moirai patiently
and waits
(LadyLabyrinth/2019)
llb, klb, mlb
ljb
"Basic Instinct", The Acid
https://youtu.be/kOucrAFX810
“A window within the soul to see
Light and Magick I send with thee
Be strong, be brave, make the right choice
Though Darkness shouts with a terrible voice
Know that I am watching from above
And that always, always, the answer is Love...”
1. Liminality
2. Moirai
Lost in the desert at night, a maze of stairs reveals the myth.
Neon sign, beside a paan-red smile, pairs-- revealing the myth.
Clotho has ringlets, Lachesis slanted eyes, Aisa laugh lines,
Weaving tapestry of rapturous affairs, reveal the myth.
Who plays the distant sarangi? Who pours the quenching nectar?
Falling into stride behind Inanna's heirs reveals the myth.
Those intimate moments trace the tangible warmth on her skin.
In proud destitution, a desire she wears: reveals the myth.
Sand trickles through his anxious fingers, the mirage disappears.
At dawn fugitive memories Tashir bears. The revealed myth.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Date: 31 / 10 / 2016
Oh Luna, with enchantment in night sky…
You gaze down from above with silver eye.
I fondly view your phases night by night
Enjoying most when you are filled with light.
To find your bright reflection on the sea
Enthralls emotions deep inside of me.
Under your spell, you share in love’s sweet bliss,
I wonder who you will compel to kiss.
Let me roam the gardens in your soft light.
Romance me now as clouds obscure your sight.
Yes, every time your sphere is full or new
You cause desire or cause one to be blue.
So Luna do your best, my lover waits…
We’ll leave our love to you, and not the Fates.
© Connie Marcum Wong
(Non-traditional Sonnet)
*Fates: Greek & Roman Mythology The three goddesses, Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos, who control human destiny.
Written during the full moon March 23rd.
Walking the line… as dancers in life
Stepping gingerly avoiding strife
Step by step not looking left or right up or down
Eyes fixed upon living life’s line --
Played out by Klotho—
Measured by Lachesis
In a nanosecond a fatal slip,
Causes an unexpected trip
Atropos’ final snip--
Fragile system malfunction
Resulting in extreme unction.
I as you, play my part
As we on Charon’s craft depart.
Life's thread is spun, measured, and snipped
By three dainty pairs of deft hands
To weave the cold words of life's fickle script.
Clotho spins life with a valiant grip,
Her spindle ablaze with gold strands.
Life's thread is spun, measured, and snipped.
Lachesis measures without pause or slip,
Deciding the length of life's band
To weave the cold words of life's fickle script.
Atropos carries the scissors that clip
The thread where her sister commands.
Life's thread is spun, measured, and snipped.
Every last soul becomes a conscript,
Drafted to heed their demands
To weave the cold words of life's fickle script.
With each stolid snip, our free will is stripped
As Fate's fluid flames are fanned.
Life's thread is spun, measured, and snipped
To weave the cold words of life's fickle script.
*Based on Greek Mythology's "Moirai"