light weaver

Here, now

Stones grow into rocks, spikey like guards over the edge.

Baring my sheets, peering over the edge, it’s been a journey.

My callouses no longer hurt, they feel a part of me, they reflect resilience.

Dreaming of cliffs, wishing passed these edges to the ocean beyond and below.

We’re here now, let’s return to the beginning.

Fly this time, downwards, gliding to a new beginning

to the tides that turn, over and over again,

fly, dream into a new

The peaks are breathing, shining their tips to the sky

change is coming, wind is chasing, beckoning steps onward and toward

Peering over the edge gingerly, the waves below crashed against the tall boulders lifting a light spray and reaching a curious nose and cheek.

This place, I’ve been here before…

it feels familiar, but, different, changed…

Something moved beneath and she jolted up, eyes darting across the surface, searching for the source of movement. Again, a vibration rippled over the surface sending a shiver up the inside of her calves to her chest, heart thumping.

It’s the mountain.

The vegetation was lush, with shrubs protruding joyfully amongst the shaded jade grass.

In their own inconceivable pattern, trunks of towering trees rose imposingly from the ground in various locations, creating narrow corridors of woods.

I wish I could see them from above, their arrangement feels fractal.

Seasons seemed to pass in seconds and she flaked the surface, licking the barks of trees, eventually falling to a sleep in the shade of leaning, towering palm leaves, they flapped like wings in the gentle breeze, filtering only the softest light that would warm her sleeping skin.

Rolling gingerly over, her eyes faced upwards and the komorebi fell brilliantly amongst the spaces in the canopy; her fingertips reaching out to a stream of motes lingering in the shimmers.

How much time has passed?

The warmth felt unchanged from when she’d drifted off; the rustle of leaves carried on the shoulder of the breeze was sweet in greeting her, and yet she knew that enough time had passed for the colors to change slightly, almost from a golden singe to rust embers. The barks were darker, the vines fell a little longer, wrapping themselves around trunks once more.

Roaming over the land that felt so familiar to her. A song in her hummed to each vibration that touched her skin through the mountains surface. Stepping over to the oak that leaned at the center of a clearing, much of the grass had eroded away, the sand thick and not yet without life; entering the clearing, where only spikes of grass poked up curiously from the ground. Stepping forward, curling her toes into the stream of granules until they found the damp mud beneath. Whistles echoed in the clearing, the winged creatures felt her presence and it was almost as if the great tree sighed immensely, for no other reason but acknowledgment of the moment, the day, another being passing into place. Breathing in, she continued forward despite the menacing, enchanting air of the place. Her steps, steady, reached the ancient bark that rested imposingly yet, tremendous and wonderful, her hand reached out and grazed only with the tips at first, up lightly, down, then pressed her palm to the ancient tree’s trunk.

Light pierced from her eyes and every crevice of her body, stirring those around as a surge of energy pulsed through her body, the vines hung low and covered the clearing. Centuries passed in those moments, between the tree and her. Pulses of their memories forgotten, stories of those having walked and passed on. Everything that felt missing, hovered in anticipation and, settled on her, humming, till the last moment she’d slept beneath the branches, not too far away. The brilliance of the light faded and leveled the curve into a region of everyday luminescence. Her feet felt the ground beneath her once more. Exhaling, her forehead pressed against the trunk of the old oak.

Thank you.

The whistles returned and the clearing was alive again in a different way, steady and buzzing.

She felt shivers moving across her palm, up her arm. Little creatures, made their way over her skin, prickling her in several places. A spindly-legged mini monster made it’s way under her forearm and pierced her until a little blood poured out. Ouch - easy!

The varieties scattered off and gave her arm a break from their curiosity.

She caught the slight of both a trickle and rush of a stream…

It’s not too far…

Quickening her stride in excitement, she followed the sense of the stream. The terrain changed once more as she ran through the trees, the light dimmed and shifted, banks grew into hills of jutting rocks forcing her pace to slow, at which she found herself gasping, holding onto breath that was no longer there, slipping passed her. Falling against the rock, everything quietened and emerging from the blanketed sound, the stream trickled, just on the other side of the rocks. Smiling between short breaths, she stumbled over to the glistening pool of water that settled from the flow amongst the hollow rocks. Falling into the cool, clear liquid, attempting to cup some of it in her hand and bring it to her mouth.

Maroon swirls colored the pure pool water, her hand was pierced once more, cut and scraped by the insects and creatures that had found their way onto her skin. They bit on her dead dermis layer and drank the life from her veins. Her eyes hovered on the atrocity before her, the horror barely sunk in passed the short breaths that weren’t reaching her heart fast enough. She fell in with her blood pouring into the water, maroon roses spread over what was the clear tranquil sky pool, fading into translucent thoughts and vivid dreams of rusted seas.

A whisper, whistle, flutter the thistles of the creeks side, motion her mind forward, her breath returning to a familiar pace. Leaning on her left forearm, pressing up with her right palm, the crawling ones had left her skin and the surrounding area. She took in what was left of the stream. Where the clear water had filled and flowed effortlessly, the bedrock lay, naked and stark against the light. Shadows leaned over segments deepening their shade of brown, in others of beige their warmth hung lightly over in shimmers shifting in gentle spirals into glimmers in the sky. Reaching, her hand into the light, she glimpsed a glint at the tips of her fingertips; gaping up along her arm her fingertips, the shimmer reached into and around the shape of her hand and she was glistening too.

Passed the stream, she approached the adjacent forest.

What strange torsos, it’s like they’re leaning into graceful backbends creating oblique archways

They appeared to sigh at every other moment, leaning deeper into their bends. She was aware then of the breath she shared with this place. The swiftness of passing wings caught her just before a blink and, at a leap, she chased forward. Not so much at it, but with. Beyond the borders of the forest, leaning forward she followed the wings across the landscape and over hills. Pausing whenever the shudders of the mountain occurred, halting as the tremors echoed over the valley, until she grew accustomed to their cadence and transitioned to a pace that felt accustomed to the chaos of the changing terrain. Before her a canyon ran in either direction, halting the possibility of following the wings any further. The trees beside the canyon were thick and long, slender and beautiful together in their army, they stood like guardians of the canyon. She climbed the nearest one, hoping to sight the painted wings across the depth. Reaching the thin branches at the top, she peaked through them…

hmmm, black downy wings, soft curved beak, I think it went… that way.

uhhhhhh, aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarghhh

She hugged the branch close, the trunk had sunk downward, gently curving, evocative of the ones passed in the previous forestry. Grimacing, she looked down, the giant tree had begun to lean over the canyon; the drop below hung deep and the shadows reflected her anxiety of the depth. Gulping, she took a breath and held on tightly, the tree curved more still, and shutting her eyes, she hugged the branch closely, wounding her legs around. She catches a glimpse of the butterfly before shutting her eyes.

… wait, it’s not moving anymore

Daring to open her eyes, tender, lush greenery filled her periphery. Exhaling and unravelling her legs from the tree, hanging with just her hands, her eyes widened. Her feet dangled not far from the ground that moments before possessed the other side of the canyon. She gasped as the striking flutter of the butterfly passed by her gaze, dauntless, she released her grip of the tree. Touching her forehead to the tree she whispered, thank you for bringing me here.

the trees, they move, their movements though, it’s different from the tremors I felt while running through the wood.

Light was fading and twinkles in the sky appeared with each passing moment.

The inky blue of the night sky would soon swallow the gloaming, consuming the day in its sheath.

A humming drifted, grazing her ear and they twitched slightly, she turned in its direction, grinning in the moving twilight.

The hills appeared to roll in every direction, the golden path folded in and out, kissing and parting at each valley dip. She followed the hum that permeated the air with its mild susurration, walking amongst the bushes and violets, her hands glimmered as they dangled cheerfully by her sides, like jewels hidden in her skin; as though in response, a glow, faint at first, appeared mischievously blinking and hiding away, in the crevice of a bush and the tips of another a ways away.

secret fires dancing in the landscape, they glow like a melody to the rhythm of the grass, so many moments have to align, for me to be here, to be privy.

The humming grew closer as the sound of the days ebb rose, cascading shivers of bushes, the cacophony of birds in the canopies above returned to their nests, and young, sang a sigh of release from flying and longing. The form of a great tree was beside her now, with strong branches reaching outwards, it protruded imposingly. Following its circumference she trailed about the magnificent birch, moths flew by, illuminated briefly by the elusive fireflies. She approached the alluring thrum that had carried her thus far, the hive hung purposefully from a branch above, a great amass that had begun to slow in activity for the close of the day.

Humm… return, still… hummm… return, still…

A few roamed hurriedly around. Their bodies were like bees, necks covered in hair like velvet and stingers like needles. Their wings were magical, mechanical key-heads shaped of three leafed clovers, uncanny and complete amongst the surreal forest.

She passed by them quietly, the tree was great but unlike the previous ones in height, it had branches that were tightly knit together, thick till their tips. Gossamer blossoms both hung from the vines and peeked out from between the short, thick leaves clumped amongst the boughs, almost a neon white with blushed tips grinning in the faint light. A comfortable alcove for resting bees. Every other breeze, the vines would swish, causing a buzz, a hum and a return to rest.

Bulbous like forms seemed to hang from various points in a sage color, in the fading light, old blossoms were dried at their base. Something wet touched her shoulder and she stared at it. Another, on her arm. Flaying out her palm, drops were caught. She held them to a mouth and licked, hesitantly.

It’s sweet.

Like wild honey and rosemary, the strange liquid danced around her mouth in a dazzling sensation. The bulbous forms were protruding in variations around her, she grabbed hold of one, the branch swayed. The ethereal taste seemed to momentarily overwhelm her taste sensors as she consumed a fruit of the valley.

It’s gotten quiet…

The humming had stopped, and the breeze had slowed the brushing of the bush to a stillness.

Stepping backwards she glanced around her, captured in a still life painting of the serene nightscape, only a deer moved ever so slightly, beyond a hedge surrounding the trees, it’s head bowed and nuzzled amongst the grass; fixing her eyes on its demure figure, her palpitations beat loudly against her chest, grasping tightly onto something outside this painting, a hope. It looked up and caught her stare for a moment, horns floating gracing behind; disarmed, anxiety faded from her limbs and the deer continued to graze as a black figure floated towards her. The sky had faded into an inky blue. With downy wings darker than the night, a woodpecker shrieked passed her face snapping her out of a daze, an eerie bell echoed through her being and the vibrations of humming rose ominously. The hive was alive, a swarm approached her with ferocity, their mechanical wings beating in anger, the woodpecker flew passed again. Dropping the fruit she drew her breath turned to run, another shriek echoed, ringing like a bell in her ears; the tremors began and she felt the ground beneath quiver and shake, her heart pounding in panic. Steadying herself amidst the chaos, she jumped over a hedge and screamed in the pain of the first sting, followed fast in succession by the second and third and the countless others that pierced her neck, arms and midriff. Panic and fear dropped from her and as she fell and rolled to a stop on her back. The deer was peering at her, steadfast and thoughtful, perhaps, even pained. She blinked and smiled at the endless knowing of those eyes. A halo vignetted the structure of the deer, stretching out from its horns.

you’re glowing… wait, am I glowing?

A white haze hovered before her, sheathing her body and she felt translucent as all of her being separated into iridescent light, dancing just as much away as toward each other, bound only by the pearl surrounding haze. She felt herself float upwards, the pain of the sting fading into the background, far away. Past the misty hazy, the deer’s eyes were glowing brilliantly in the night, they alone were still, as if between moments. Above, stars trailed across the sky, drawing fractals inside fractals. Orb like snowflakes floated towards her shimmering being, and as they dissolved into the haze, she felt the forest pour into her. Every history of the complex root system, the design of the celestial fruit, all the shapes of water and movements of the mountains. She felt their voices in words and more shape shifting through her, their pain resonant of her own stinging wounds now sung ceremoniously away.

The moon carved a path in the sky, and the stars continued to dance in circles, eventually departing a twinkle at a time, the imminent gloaming approached. She had drunk in the flakes of the forest, adrift and intangible. As a pale, powder blue dispersed overhead, the ground quietened and a thick fog filled the lower regions. The flecks seemed to kiss the fog and shimmer away into it. The haze too drifted into the fog and her body materialized, floating horizontally to the ground. Opening her eyes she sat upon her heels, a sorrow and horror brimmed in her as her eyes darted about the region, taking in the damage ensued. The tremors has caused a crack and shift in the ground, one pushed higher than the other, the crack line went on indefinitely. It was as if all the colour had been drained from the trees and foliage. The jades and greens replaces with a tepid, lifeless brown. The leaves were dried, stiff with their edges folding in, they fell in clumps from the withered branches, the trunks were naked in the peeling bark, the knots and crevices that had smiled knowingly tightened now like wrinkles sculpted on the faces of ancient ones. The ground that remained was eroded sand and cracked, dry rock. The breathing forest was now aged, returning to dust.

She breathed heavily, the fog was beginning to clear exposing the source of the acrid taste in the air, a fine grim ash permeated the atmosphere. Peering past the ash and remains of the fog, she spotted the deer, and began to cry. Hot tears poured from her, bearing the medley of emotions that rose in torrents, guilt, relief, horror, love, abhorrence, shame, cascaded passed her cheeks and down her neck. The deer paused, turning almost in acknowledgement and farewell, she continued to sob as the deer so demure pierced her with a stern set of eyes. She breathed and nodded. As the deer moved on, a recognizable flutter appeared in the corner of her periphery.

You’re here, you’re safe… I’m so glad…

We have to go, now!

She readied herself to run through the mountains of the island for the final time. The sobbing had stopped, only the deer’s firm stare and the ever adventurous spirit of the butterfly, were present. Fluttering its wings by her side, together they took flight at speed. Her body was filled with a renewed vigor. Without looking back, she moved through the landscape, avoiding the depths of the cracks that traced the surface, where the ash hung densely and polluting the air. The deer watched, horns glistening in the morning’s melancholic light as if attempting to scatter the grey debris that was ash, and disappeared into the colors of an alternate direction.

come with me forest of will

She ran through what felt like centuries of the island. Ridges and uncanny balconies of vines hung upside down in the sky while crawling roots reached overhead.

a maze of treachery and thrill

The winds that had felt akin to her flight now roared in anxious tumult.

dreams sing in your past

Soaring to catch the edge of a cliff, a thunderous roar grew around her, the butterfly floated forward like a spark of something more.

for days that might never be

Gale forces pressed against the ash and they danced in a terrific tension.

wistful yearning for freedom of a spell long cast

A tornado formed of the chasing winds and grey-obsidian flecks.

last centuries of island into and over the sea

She hurled past the commotion and cacophony, holding a harmony between her and the gliding butterfly.

gurgling streams and dancing grass

A tear fell passed her determined face, as a tornado rampaged and chased forward, a wreckage in its wake.

your ridges and wounds I keep with me

The cliffs and spikes along the edge were in sight, unyielding she darted onward, the raging force of winds twisting fast on her tail.

all the stories of your gloaming dew, your beauty in contrast

She approached the edge and the butterfly disappeared to her rear.

trailing stars go on to last, a precious concealed truth

Vaulting with force over the edge, she hurled high into the sky and faced the waters deep, her shadow hung over the undulating waves. As she fell, slow then fast, on either side of her shadow, widened a pair of wings.

awake with me to a flight anew.

The end.