The Blue Labyrinth and the Falling Sky

"The reader is offered a visual bridge between the fantasy of Gothic past and the inevitability of Noir future. Love makes its way to all of us, eventually, in many forms and dimensions. It can be quite the Revelation. 



 “It will all happen so fast, in a blink, a mere flutter of the eye. The last trumpet will call, and the dead will be raised from their graves with a body that does not, cannot decay. And we who are living will also be transformed.”  (Cor 1 15:52)




“The Blue Labyrinth and the Falling Sky”            


I.    The Woods 


Sunlight filters through the canopy’s lace,

waking shadows where the moss lies deep,

and the blue-grey ghost gums stand powerful, erect.

In that quiet, hidden woodland space,

the ancient trees their silent secrets keep.

A gentle shiver wanders through the air,

as velvet bluebells sway in petrichor,

they bow their heavy heads in holy prayer,

drenched in the silver morning’s trembling dewy lore.

The sapphire scent drifts through the shadowed pine,

a soft and fragrant breath upon the skin,

like threads of silk that gracefully entwine,

to pull the wandering, weary spirit in.

To stand amidst the delicate, drenched stems,

is to feel the forest pulse within the chest,

each petal bright as long-lost azure gems,

where peace and quiet longing lay at rest.


II. The Blue Labyrinth

When dawn dissolves, the twilight shadows rise,

chasing all lost, lonely creatures, lovers of the night.

Their music wakes the mist around your sleeping frame,

where night-petals open, pale blue and feather-light,

to whisper in the dark your sacred wolfsbane’s name.


A tangled fable of lapis lazuli blue disrobes,

pearly-bathed and barely there,

the trapped mind Bardo, still shining Excalibur,

like love-in-a-mist that shields

a secret bloom.


This solitary moment invites the breathless in,

capitulating a quiet warmth

within the frozen ghost of you, to step forward there –

in this moment you understand contrition,

you know now, without a doubt,

she conjured you;


as if in a dream, your thoughts are racing in-between

the ocean and the sky, the other-worldly woodland trees,

there you find yourself amidst her lucid stories,

you hear your name echoed within

the rustling of her ancient gold,

those falling Winter silver leaves –

powerful talismans whispering all around you,

they are calling out your name, without doubt,

you are now beginning to believe;


you are captivated by this wolfsbane-crowned creature

unchained like a wild thing in her lair,

casting her gentle persuasions, entrancing you there

with such hypnotic silent language like a fragrance

in the dark night forest air -

her potent glamour spell moves o’er you,

which you extraordinarily wear,

now opening your mind like a lotus

to the relevance of truth or dare.



She speaks to you in your hiding place,

where you cloistered, like a spectral monk,

observe her weaving her strange magick there,

as if you are midnight’s loyal seeking soul

your transparency is instinctively seen by her,

in silence she speaks from her mind into yours,

no sound from her lips, her incantation doeth unfold –


“Oh, Creature of the Night,

I trace the velvet contour of your spine,

as cool as scored jazz blue grey as smoke you move,

seduced beneath my hands –

you alone are reading me, this mystery

calls you mine.


For you, and only you,

I will make the Sun to rise and kiss the Moon

To fall and possess all her shades of Ocean tides,

mirrored in your empyrean eyes,

I magnetise the ordained Sky

to move your lost and lonely world -

the eyes never change from babe to human grown,

and this is how the Soul moves through - 

when it is fully known;


do try to smile, my deep blue midnight sky,

such wanting of things so very fathomless within

brings strange feelings of confusion, ‘tis no sin.

Our separate, drifting shadows now entwine,

where thoughts of all the outer world must die.


For in this deep blue labyrinth, bathed in divinity

And tenderly spoken in grâce hypnotique,

the Universe in me is now bound tight,

in your embrace for all eternity.”


III. The Shadow, The Séance and The Contract

Where mountain mists envelop rocky heights,

now gives way to waxing gibbous moon;

the Labyrinth’s true intent, not quite seen yet –

in her universe, intrepid night creatures,

you must remain vigilant, present and aware –

there are boundaries, there are limits,

in her entrancing spells of truth or dare,

wisdom and knowledge, next to Love,

hold and command, the strongest power there.


Such lunar majesty speaks

with whispering phantoms, who seek

diablo love songs over burning books;

they bask in repetitive pantoums,

trapped within their monstrous curlicues;

strange music, and black candles,

incense of Frankincense, Cedar, Sage,

Dragon's Blood, and Myrrh;

Rose, Lavender, and Vanilla,

possess each fawning creature —

her poetic rebels, love-spent,

reckless sensual vandals;

she looks on, and from her Rosae Crucis heart

she pulls out thorns and casts the runes

towards two worlds, close yet far apart.


Within the poetic shelter of the night,

a rare and urgent secret starts to wake –

ascending in pale and filtered silver lights,

too fragile for a reckless hand to take,

too fierce for the world to break.

She reads you like she reads the stars.

Turning over your hand,

she touches you there, you know where,

that place just there –

stroking thrills o’er that fleshy mound,

she softly traces each roadmap line,

the secrets in your cornered world.

Touching your Mount of Venus,

she then slides her nimble finger

all the way to your burning Plain of Mars.



Deep inside you she goes.

Your mind is velvet soft and penetrable.

Your skin flushed, a poppy’s fallen grace,

You are opened, and your wild blue-sky gaze

Takes in all of her, in this her mysterious land,

she pierces you with her jade full eyes,

and as above, so below

your whole world turns upside down

sea-green ocean into burning blue sky blue.


Your body dwells in her territory now,

no blood chalice nor sharp athame in her hands –

danger? What danger? No need for these sorcery tools,

submitting to the pulse of passion’s will –

she holds before you a parchment

and a striking blood-red feathered quill;


she reads to you -

the bounding contract, with her mind in yours,

your eyes translucent, ice-blue, rock steady, cool.

Without moving her lips, hidden in your mind she speaks,

the secrets that you must keep.

Trust in her, is a strange symphony that never sleeps.


Trembling at the ghost of her caressed command,

with courage you now stand before her tipping séance table.

Turn the planchette towards her (the possessed, imprisoned me),

as within you, you now see, some other strange being

transfigures its present potency.

It appears wearing a tortured crown of thorns, its mission it declares,

before all is lost - is to turn our fortunes around -

to shield and escort us within higher frequencies,

through its glimmering, shimmering

radiant open portal doors, just as higher notes in music,

form a bridge, that like a mirror, must be open and then worn.


I now swim in the reflection of your eyes

like a tigress playing in their deep, enchanted pools.

The world outside is frozen, sharp, and cold,

but in the captive shadow of your shade,

a quiet, glowing passion starts to hold,

where all our fears and heavy sorrows fade.

I trace the velvet edge of your hard design,

and lose my driving pulse inside of thine.


IV. Himalayan Poppies in the Golden Dawn’s Light

Now the dawn breaks in fierce and sudden heat,

waking the mist around the window frame,

where gripping hands and rising shadows meet,

and heavy sighs ignite a sudden flame.

A tangled fable of lapis lazuli becomes unlaced

and luminescent limbs entwined;

around her wolfsbane crown,

her blue-black ebony hair doeth frame the kiss-of-life,

the passionate talking of tongues –

silent oracle now made banshee wife;

your breath-of-life has struck the flame within,

two bodies like tall wild poppies Himalayan move in hymn

flushed against the ruddy bloom of Life,

singing out now to the strident Heavens

whose watching Gods umpire

the two removed from all,

fully abandoned, reaching for the sky,

their invocations demanding,

the worshipping of each within;

as golden light and hunger flood the room,

I drink you in - a deep, intoxicating draft –

a silken power, resonant and still,

a wanton addiction spun by nature’s flawless craft,

submitting to the storm of passion's will.

A closeness locks our bodies in a sharp, consuming fire,

arching the spine as two separate worlds dissolve,

rising divinity driving the tide of raw desire,

in which our urgent, aching souls resolve,

and in our hearts thorns discarded,

the Rosy Crux doeth bloom.


V.     The Lost Horizon and the Blinding Sky


In that other world, outside The Woods

in more relevant dimension,

the morning breaks a vault of blinding light,

where stormy shadows strip the dark away

and wash the walls in pale blue, blinding bright -

that specific, electric shade of an early morning sky

just before the pressure breaks, that brings in the heat of day,

mirrored perfectly on the surface of a rising tide -

there is a sudden, quiet shift in the air,

a gravity that pulls the space between us taut.

The temperature of the room is altering now,

thickening with a silent, consuming weight.

The morning sun leans hard against the glass

like a gathering storm it captures two ecstatic forms;

I hear you, I see you, outside the All -

the slow, deliberate rise of you,

and your succumbing breath.

The exterior world narrows to a single point.

Your hands lock tight, a fierce and sudden press,

arching my spine against the shifting sheet,

as if to imprint the beating words

of such carnality full met, obeying

its melting corporeal secrets -

as sunbeams flood the room in stark excess,

our rising sky and ocean pulse in burning fusion

where we co-joined do meet.

I look above to see that pale blue space,

mirrored within the hunger of your eyes,

locked in the heavy blaze of your embrace,

where every thought of earth and shelter dies.

The sky ignites, a vast and blinding hue,

as my whole universe dissolves

into the sky-blue rise of you.


We move together now

into the shadow of the forest canopy,

until the cool morning air is completely burnt away.


The sky outside ignites in a blinding glare –


and the lost horizon, that stark line

drawn harshly in between

the You of you and I am I,

blue sky and the living tide-pulled ocean,

like a Revelation,

simply disappears.


We are the one word now -


Love;


and like a book worth reading,

we are intoxicating

read and open -


So below, as Above.


Candide Diderot. ‘26

“I want to see you
As you are now
Every single day
That I am living

Painted in flames
All peeling thunder
Be the lightning in me
That strikes relentless…”

(Partial Excerpts, Lyrics: “The Lighening Strike: What if this Storm Ends?”, Snow Patrol)



“I'm only lost if you don't look for me
I'm trying to fall without a sound
I'm not afraid to wander endlessly
I just don't know how to be found…


So this is what it is to be a man
To fight the tears, the pain and lose
I'm trying too hard not to understand
'Cause when I do, I have to choose…


Put some heart in
I'll put my heart in it
You can't belong and not believe
So this is what it is to love someone
You wear your heart up on their sleeve …


“Why does your love feel like heartbreak?
Why does your love finish every thought I have?
Every song sounds like an earthquake
Every word cuts through this endless forest like a path”

(Partial Excerpts, from Lyrics: “The Forest Path”, Snow Patrol)



Shades of Blue:

Sky Blue, Sapphire, Midnight Blue, Pale Blue, Azure, Ice-Blue, Electric Blue, Violet Blue, Lapis Lazuli Blue, Blue Grey


Blue Flowers: Bluebells, Love-in-the-Mist, Himalayan Poppies,


Violet Blue Flowers: Wolfsbane


Red Flowers: Poppies, Roses. 


Colours/Symbolism: Blue, Green, Violet, Red, Gold, Silver, Black.

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