Part 12: a glimpse into the past...

The story of Zeus....in part...rock a bye baby on the tree top
when the wind blows the cradle will rock
when the bough(golden) breaks the cradle will fall
and down will come baby, cradle and all....

These are the lyrics to an album I'm working on. It's form, tempo, and lyrics are meant to mirror itself in direct relation to this very phenomena all around us. The marriage of opposites ......

SHE

nights liquid cave shelters lifes glimmer of darkness, she covets the silence...she dances and dances...in seeking the southern she's chasing the northwind, embracing the serpent she is inflamed with lifes lust, their joining in ASPect.
Seven times coiled about the lunar eggs darkness, tending the coal that's hidden inside will spark us....to Sybil , and syllabull and see the bulls before us in Taurus .
The darkness!!the darkness!! The heralds will call us. Be drunken with darkness , the unknown will guide us.
The order, the chaos, love swaddled in darkness...
The black pitch abyss that carries her starseed.
By dancing and dancing she's flowing like laughter.
The crack in the egg lets her Silver light wander. As it glitters and glimmers it shatters and shimmers.
What once was submerged, was forgotten in tandum, the unit, the Monad, moon queen with horns....on the neck of a snake she is standing.

The Mother of Sunshine

the sickle of silver the patron of justice...
She was keeper of the hearth and queen of the era
the water still glistened in droplets, as they fell to the beach, the sand she shook from her heels leaving the sea behind
never looking back she headed straight for the sunrise.
Embracing the coming day she raced on to chase her lovers trail ...the silver mother beckons him into her arms...
Cold stone arms crack-ivy-eyed
count the windy trees and darkened ponds green blackened bogs of mossy grass, where moonbeams shine on beads of midnights dew. And blackbirds watch and wait for putrefaction...
They speak of charms and gnomes and magick irredescence, and shrooms where decay is in transit , in it's smell and in its heat.
She's arranging, and stirring in, measure by measure, come Aolian, come Dorian, all into the cauldron, in the heat of her dancing she Mixlydian's a concoction, the steam of spirits exits, ENTRANCING, evaporation....through chants, she incants and sings of the deCOMPOSITION.
In her crucible of time she melds love into action, the elements she mates and divides with partition, the circle is squared first , and then drawn and quartered.
All are still shadows, of phantoms , pantomimed by the hearthside...that dance in the red light, flicker and shudder. Calling her children the shadows, with bellows of laughter...into the womb of silence that beckons diamonds at midnight...
My shadows my children arise , do not cower, the nightshades are open for the whitching hour.
The bellowing hiss of the winds crystal breath snakes in and out of her caves chinked stone walls. Threatening to spread ice and fingers of frost, to mirror and freeze the worlds longest day. Frozen in time, lest we tend to our hearth .
The bellows, he bellows! Accross our stone threshhold, be vigilant and wary and tend to the fire, like the true hearts desire.