« Notes to Myself.............................by Hugh Prather | Main | Cross Fire »
April 02, 2005
songs of Jeremiah, dreams of ferries
Imagine a field, on the edge of graveyard.... you have to follow me quietly, -the sun in falling behind the blue dark void of the sky, and twilight is here, when everything loses its focus, and melts within the background of darkening amber, that fades to black.
Lets wait, I hear movement, the dry leaves, and there in that corner,look, you see a hand coming out of the ground, and and arm, a shoulder and I see her head, and soon she is up from the dust, and soil, and there is the thunder, the black clouds moving in, and yes, I feel the drops of the rain, and soon its a shower storm, wind blows, look, she is walking towrd us, such beutiful creature as our eyes pick the silluhette of her frame, she is walking toward us, in measured steps, and there you see, she is a godess, a face in perfection, with her black hair wet stiking to her hair, and shoulders of creamy white lucent in the dark, a glow of white, you look how she passed us by, lets follow her behind, and there there is a Black Piano, suddenly visible, she stands by it, and then sits behind the piano, and amist the rain and storm the sounds come to life, the notes, extention of her fingers and play of wires they fly and stand within the air, and the sound, the melody of resurection, as she plays.
there are foot steps, many, and yes you see there are coming, in a pach, of wild wolves, all in white, as their eyes shimmer against the dark, they come, and soon they are sarrounding her, though she seems prancing in a different reality, playing, bringing the piano to life, as the rain washes over them, with her sitting and them all around her quietly , taken bu the sound, the melodies of her witchery, and then she stops sudden, and for a second the time comes to halt, like a picture and then you hear them growl as they close on her, she sits , not screaming, but wellcoming their paws, fangs and teeth, as they tear her to pieces, and all you see in blood and the songs of their teeth as they chew her in pieces.
The night is spent and the day is coming, within our site, the picture breaks to pieces, and soon there is only dust, and ashes carried by the wind, like she has never been, and the wolves never came, but, you saw it, we saw it, and we wont forget.
Posted by Idinraha at April 2, 2005 06:14 PM