Sunday, February 21, 2016

A meeting...but more, a connecting


Her toes were tickled

As she twirled and spun

Singing her song to awaken the trees

and guide the warmth of the moon’s kiss

to the deepest parts of things


In the distance, there were sharp sounds

Sounds of metal, death, crashing unconnected steps


And so she hung to the tips of the deepest underbrush

While the battle raged


Her muscles quivered

Beneath her gossamer gown

As she prepared to venture nearer the place

Where the crashing ended



Eyes mostly closed

She saw the form at the base of her tree

As clear as if it were in midday sunshine


Mouth softly parted to taste

The air changes

She licked her lips in silent sorrow

At the iron ice of blood song


Nostrils flared, she sniffed, slow and deep

And olfactory filters

Sent the minute, lingering memory

Of a large form falling, dragging, crawling


Her feet caressed each dent he’d left

Following the path his body had carved


And every inch of fairy blood flowing

Beneath her glowing ivory skin sang a song of

Sorrow at the pain he wore

Like an aura shroud, covered every bit of all of him


This one, he was not like other humans.

This one, she might just fix,

If her powers allowed



And his armor is as white as ghostly night gallows


in moonlight madness

kissed and cracked, dented and viscously attacked

yet whole


his blood comes

from places unprotected


so she tiptoes

sends out her heart to search

hair to hear

and fingers to feed

upon his dreams


they fill her

touch her

sing songs so sweet the Seraphim


in sorrow and desperation for surcease.


Thus her only recourse

is breath.


She leans in

breaths in


and breaks while she breathes

a light leaving her lips

and entering his.



till LIght fades and falls into

more light

and dew dances on lashes


his armor is aside


his pain is, for now, aside


he dreams


And there are words

Like sunset songs

There are oaths, promises



For barefoot faeries

titles and times, battles and barriers

are next to nothing


There is connection.

There is belief.

There is trust


One to another, trust where there has rarely been before.

And there is passion.



To the Fae

when these worlds touch

you touch back

for there is magic there

And so she did


And Aine sang

and midsummer melted into the worlds that gave wing to her feet

and she told him he was bound to her

and she was pledged to him


and he smiled.


she gave him her name

and she kissed him

and danced away on drew drops to the tops of

every tree