Monday, July 22, 2013

T: So wait. I cannot believe... you let me sit in front of that worthless plant for nearly five hours, knowing full well it would not, could not speak?

B: Yes. That is correct.

T: Why would you do that to me?

B: If you could not accept this orchid's silence it is unlikely you could grasp what others of its species have to say. I needed to know if you were a keeper.

T: Well, now that we know I am not a 'keeper', you can refrain from subjecting me to such pranks.

B: I think you are a keeper.

T: What do you mean?

B: The silent one has never allowed me to sit before it for five hours.

Thursday, July 18, 2013

the cord is of the softest silk
tethered forward,
beyond the unknown

a discovered remnant of a severed birthright,
swaying gently back and forth
in the turbulent sea of life

reborn in the flames of despair
and self discovery

a lifeline
issuing from the core of self

Monday, July 15, 2013

it's only the wind
pushing until you react
wind does not center

21 December 1917 --
(Seven days since posting to journal.)
I have found the Whispering Orchid. I always felt I would. It seems as if it has been calling me ever since I can remember. The plant is as wonderful and mysterious as I had imagined. I sat before it for nearly three days and nights. The rest of the expedition feared the worse - I regret that I caused them grief.

Thursday, July 11, 2013

plants have an evening dance
more deliberate than midday
almost autumnal,
but less lethal

Alice put her house up for sale -
there are new tenants.
The lavender is growing thick and out of control.
One stalk at a time, the cone-shaped juniper bushes are morphing back to their original leaf structure.
Blackberry brambles are covering the hole where cool air used to rise.
I hope Alice comes back.

 "So," said the knight, turning to his squire, "what would you think a suitable gift for such a repulsive creature."

 (Overhearing the discussion:) "PUZZLES!," replied the large, grotesque worm, spittle projecting both at the 'p' and 'zz'. The worm wiped its mouth on the decaying tree stump, then glanced back at the bridge under its attendance.

"I like puzzles."

Tuesday, July 9, 2013

I can recognize the first indistinct messages from the dark tower: a suggestion of regret; a footnote of embarrassment from some skewed remembrance.

When you know a monster by its True Name,when you have touched its cold, hard surface and measured its dimensions, it loses the better part of its power -- it becomes what it is, nothing more.

"Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered, I have fought my way here to the castle beyond the Goblin City to take back the child that you have stolen, for my will is as strong as yours, and my kingdom as great. You have no power over me." t jones--The Labyrinth

Thursday, July 4, 2013


Peter the squirrel woke up later than usual. The sun had been up for hours, so he expected the weather to be hot and muggy, but it wasn't. He took extra time with his chores, letting his mind drift from one thought to the next. Everything seemed to have a bright magical film, the air glistened. Laying out his nut and berry lunch, he made a mental note to remember this bright and beautiful summer morning.