The Twisted Trail below Harmony Hill


“There is not a fragment in all nature, for every relative fragment of one thing is a full harmonious unit in itself.” – John Muir

“I play until my fingers are blue and stiff from the cold, and then I keep on playing. Until I’m lost in the music. Until I am the music–notes and chords, the melody and harmony. It hurts, but it’s okay because when I’m the music, I’m not me. Not sad. Not afraid. Not desperate. Not guilty.” – Jennifer Donnelly

“Harmony, gee I really love you and I want to love you forever, and dream of the never, never, never leaving harmony.” – Bernie Taupin/Elton John

For clear eyed I will rise on the season with this night past dead.

The pathway seems as I remember it, just colder with ghost of the path, a shame it is under the hillside, hidden so well in the past. The Alder it stands in a thicket, begging for a witch’s command, saying in spirits communion, let go of something you can. Dysphoria enters my neurons, shaking as old men or young men can do, when they ready their soul, to enter the darkness and fight the terror they knew. The twisted trail below Harmony bears thorns as depravity can. It matters not the story, the season that made life stall. The cold, cold touch of the daemon, his shadow that started it all. “Remand”, I say to the forest, “here where rotting leaves lay”. “Remand, the innocent childhood” from that flat stone where my young body lay”.

The Callaway plant lights the horizon, in the cold Missouri night. It sends its radioactive burdens to light my past burdens flight. The signs on the trail say “Jesus”, he makes your sins not right, and I wonder where was “Jesus”, when the boy on the flat rock cried. For there I hid in my secrets, the shadows they ran away. Daemon, I called you in thunder, you could not look at me the next day. However, I hid you in secret, those many years ago. Now I come upon this bare night, and strike the flat rock to let you go. Without malice you must go. You must go. For in the pools of frozen water, reflects a sight. Some do their deeds in darkness. Still, natures mirror is a light that holds keys. What dies here awaiting winter will seek the spring and rise to fly the wind, so free.

The pathway seems as I remember it, with Harmony up ahead, twisting turning, leafless branches tie and untie again. The Barred Owl cries in abandon, the sky grows rosy red, ashes to ashes, from my lost boyhood, something fills my head. No matter of all my transgressions, those omissions I might have stead. Adonai, the one who finds me, has led my soul until fed. This flat rock in this forest, beneath my minor head, provided me with strength of a union that spirit, never dead. There is no surviving in union, no victimization, to shed, for clear eyed I will rise on the season with this night past dead. “Remand”, I say to the hillside, “give harmony in all I wed”. “Let this trail go its way of sorrow, behold the blessings instead”. “Behold the blessings instead”.

For clear eyed I will rise on the season with this night past dead. – 10.23.2018 – דָנִיֵּאל

 

The Dragons of Heaven


Nüwa Repairs the Breach in Heaven

For I do believe there are dragons in….

The peak of piety had been hiking for days, his feet raw, from the battered climb to Heaven. He was known by many names, the prince of earth, the pontifex pope, the holy Ravi, and prince of peace. Much to his surprise, he was not the first to arrive, for there in the bosom of G_D, their scales formed from earthly struggles, there were dragons, and they were keepers, the sum of heavens fire. Welcome to heaven.

The scales go up, like in do re me, a psalmist croons in a minor key. And a shaggy head with no blood left to cast red, climbs a final steep through closed eyes, a dragons keep, cast ye heaven. The sheets of rain on earth through life’s pain, thought he a crippled man, made his living through a plan, and he cast his coin in war, robbed the rich to feed the poor. Raked his talons through the sky, took what change to just get by. And in the even, blackened tide, did not settle by what justice decides, was an outlaw, was a god, was the thought inside us all, and was a dragon. Welcome to heaven.

It was, when he died, danced the did, instead of why, made his sword into a fire, pierced the thought instead of did acquire. Thought the christ was just a child, why need saved when giving’s so worthwhile. He of flying iron and steel, of what he searched he learned to kill. Oh you dragon who conquers hills, when you lower to the valley, did you find a like of minds. And in the even, blackened tide, did not settle by what justice decides, was an outlaw, was a god, was the thought inside us all, and was a dragon. Welcome to heaven.

Here there be dragons a plenty see, those misfits that bother society, one has to wonder, why heaven ask them in. They move to torch those earthly walls, those best kept manners of dishonest men who hold wealth, hold it all. Such a surprise to not go down, to be a rebel a dragon not hell bound. He holds his wings to block the sun, the morning star says welcome on, and then he does see, a host of bestial family on the crystal sea. And in the even, blackened tide, did not settle by what justice decides, was an outlaw, was a god, was the thought inside us all, and was a dragon. Welcome to heaven. – 09.17.2015 – דָּנִיֵּאל