Silent is the Water (Devotional Acrostic Challenge)

The prompt for the week is Earth/Cave, Wilderness, Reclusive Gods or Spirits

For the Silent Prince

Slowly the last light of springtime fades,
Immortal, deathless Prince of Summer.
Linger in springtime’s steps, for your
Ending is soon to approach, Wandering god.
Never prayed to before your leaving, for only
Those from Eternity know your fate each Summer.
In debt to the very Land that has time and again
Sustained you in your darkest hours, you take up your
Trials in Sacrifice.  Distant Prince, draped in gold, your
History is entwined with the Land and with a Love that gives
Everything time and again.  The Underworld beckons, the
Wilderness swallows you, and the River is clear and still.
Anticipate not your next Sacrifice, Lord of Silence, but rather
Turn to Autumn and the beauty of Darkness.  There is still
Evening light to wander, from which the stars will shine.  From
Ruin life has come, and Darkness is ablaze with Light.

To Become a Monster, to Become a King

Here in the Valleys of Darkness I walk alone, My Crown in My hands (so much weight, so much Meaning.)  As I walk, I can sense the whispers of spells being done so far away.

To accept this change, this Transformation, is to be drawn deeper into Other worlds, to be drawn to where My Heart calls me.  I have accepted these People, these Monsters, after three years of hints and quiet devotion, after understanding why the twin monsters with green eyes call Me “Father,” why My wings are made of stone.

Slowly I step into Outer Darkness; all trees, purple skies, and forever Twilight.  I walk towards the Great Tree, and My Crown grows heavier in My hands.  This is not a Symbol now, it is Duty, Honor, and Love.

The Queen’s brother lowers his hands, his spells are finished now that I have made My Choice.  Our eyes meet and he nods; this is up to Me, to Become a Monster and bear the Crown, or cast it off and walk away.  (He will Love Me no matter what Choice I make.)  I nod and he smiles ever so slightly.

I turn to My Mother, who is standing beside an empty Throne.  She embraces Me tightly, and when I step back she nods to My Throne.

Take Your seat, young King.

The words of the Far Ones in My mind still make Me shiver even now, and I see My Family smile; they knew They would make an appearance, knew They approved of My Choice.

My Mother lifts My Crown from My hands when I sit, and places it on My head.

Light and Shadow envelopes Me, and My Family’s Love surrounds Me.

Sing the Stars to Sleep (Devotional Acrostic Challenge)

The prompt for the week is Bright, Ouranic, Heaven/Sky Gods or Spirits

For the Far Ones; a reflection through Their eyes on the King of All Darkness.

Shining in the Void beyond the Heavens, between the
Innumerable Stars, You are both Terror and Beauty.
Nothing evades Your gaze; You saw the the twin of the
Goddess long before he fell into Your burning world.
Time would slowly trickle on, and he would become
History in living form; a young Prince fleeing from
Elsewhere who stumbled into a Crown he never
Saw coming, a Crown he never thought he’d own.
Time has slid onward, and through the years his
Assurance in his People has only multiplied.  His
Reign has been long, and it will be longer still.
Sanctuary he has provided for many, but not without
Turbulent effect on his own Heart.  He is never on the
Outside, never above his People; You have called him to this,
Shining Gods, and You have Chosen Your Sovereign well.
Life is the thing he holds dearest, Life, Free Will, and Love.
Ending the day in the hushed light of sunset, You Gods of
Eternity watch Your Sovereign’s Creation, a World of
Peace and Hope in which Your Children dwell.


In order to get my mind off worrying about the Otherworlds, I decided to work on some knitting and listen to Voltaire’s new album.  I invited J to listen with me, since he was around, and he had never heard Voltaire’s music before (and he now has a new favorite artist.)

While we were listening to the album, he said there were several songs that reminded him of me, or of our past life together.  He said that “Butterfly” especially reminded him of me, and of the relationship we’re building.

I am a butterfly in your hands
That’s where I chose to land
I lost my mind but who cares?
I don’t mind, I’m not scared
They are staring at us
Well let them fuss
I feel complete

Cause you and me
It’s an oath, to believe in love
Yes, you and me
It’s enough to believe in love
My dear, it’s all clear

I thought I had it all
Through spring and fall
A ghost parade and yet in
Those thousand years my fate
It was so late to meet your fate
Now we’re standing right here
The sky is clear, I have no fear

Cause you and me
It’s an oath, to believe in love
Yes, you and me
It’s enough to believe in love
My dear, it’s all clear

Cause you and me
It’s an oath, to believe in love
Yes, you and me
It’s enough to believe in love
My dear

Yes, you and me
It’s enough to believe in love
My dear, it’s all clear

Art Lessons from the Dreamer

With the rumble of thunder, I sensed a soft thump, then his energy.  I looked up to see him standing in my living room, his blue-black wings shimmering behind him.

“Hi.”  I nodded to the sketchbook I’d propped up on my knee.  “I can’t think of what to draw.”

He sat down at me feet and grinned up at me.  “I could model for you.”

“Do I need to remind you that I technically can’t see you?”

“You could draw a rose,” the Dreamer suggested, “they’re all angles and lines.  So are other flowers, but roses especially.”

“You sound like an art teacher,” I said as I pulled up pictures of roses on my phone.

“I have done that,” he said, “taught some art classes.”  He laughed at the surprised look on my face.  “I’ve been painting for years,” he said with a shrug, “I may as well teach others.”

He remained sitting at my feet as I worked, talking about drawing and the technical aspects of art.  He walked me through the outlining, starting from the outside and working my way into the center of the flower.


“Beautiful,” he said when I was finished.

“Keep that in your sketchbook,” he said, when I asked if he wanted the picture on his shrine, “I want you to see how you improve over time.”

(He said I should share the final picture as well as writing about it, if I’m comfortable doing so.)

It’s ballpoint pen (the outline) and colored pencils (the inside)

Wings of Ash and Stone

This is a sort of sequel to this poem.

My wings are made of ash and stone
forged in fires long forgotten, held together
by magic found only in the Iron Hearted Realm.

I am draped in red, dressed in black, and My sword
is made of silver.  I stand tall, My wings behind Me, as
fire burns before Me.  There is silence from My Mentor,
from My Monsters, as magic flows through My veins.

I am the King of Sorrow, King of Nowhere.  In this moment,
I am fire and ash in human form, alighting all of Outer Darkness.
I have not fallen, but rather, I have given Freedom and Grace
to My People.  With My head high, magic flows through My wings
which do not burn, but harden, becoming stone once again.

Art Adventures Begin, And A Realization

Today I bought a sketchbook and some colored pencils, because I’ve been wanting to get back into art after not having drawn anything for several years.

Then I remember that the Dreamer is an artist, and that he’s been gently encouraging me to get back into art and drawing for a while now.  Not for any sort of devotional activity, just that he thinks I’d enjoy it.  It makes me happy, that he’s encouraging my hobbies simply as things I enjoy doing.

That’s something that I’ve been noticing lately, that my Beloveds are encouraging my independence and balancing my “everyday” and spiritual life.  They’re helping me separate the “mundane” and spiritual, rather than bringing them closer together.  I’m going to have to sit with that realization for a bit, but it reminds me of the Madman’s comment about faith that ebbs and flows.

Moments of Normal

I know it’s pure coincidence, that we began this romance just as my Otherworld life was exploding yet again.  I find myself longing for you, even as the rest of my mind is screaming in panic at threats of being broken and my name being ruined.

You comfort me when I feel like my world is spinning out of control, hold me close through the nights when my anxious mind is doing a better job at breaking me than any power-hungry god ever could.  You sit with me when I reach out at my shrine and get an answering machine, and remind me that my Husbands are busy men who are (on top of their other Jobs) doing their best to control the raging storm that is the ridiculous Drama for my Heart.

You come to me in a dream, drawing me out of my anxious worrying.  You take my hand and pull me into your world, showing me this Realm at a level that has nothing to do with the Royalty, showing me the city lights, letting me hear the laughter and talk of everyday people.  I had been here before, but with the King, with you it’s…different.  When I’m with you, I blend in, and I find that I enjoy it.

I need that, these moments of “normal” life; of meeting your close friends, hearing them laugh and saying it’s about time we started dating.  I need these quiet moments of taking your hand by carnival lights.

Here I am not a King who’s Heart is being torn apart by arguing gods, I am simply someone falling in love with his childhood friend.  Our past may be fraught with twists and turns, but the Love that I am just beginning to feel for you is not.

It All Comes Back to My Heart

You must defend your Heart, the Prince says to me,
that is what this all comes back to, is your Heart.
He has no answer to my main question–why?

This fight is not for the beating muscle inside my chest
but for my Love and devotion–and again I ask the same
question–why is my Heart so important to you and yours?

I know where my Heart and Loyalties lie;
this tug-of-war is useless, I will never return
to the Desert, give up, let me go.  I will not be
brought low to a world of lies and illusions.

Devotion is not something that can be forced; remembering
old prayers and associations is not the same as sharing coffee
with my Loves on the way to class.  You have no shrine from me,
no offering plates, and I donated all my old books and jewelry.

What good memories I have of you are tainted now, what affection
I felt is gone.  I now only feel resentment and anger, and my three Beloveds
have promised to stand by my side, come what may in this ridiculous Drama.

Even if I am somehow broken, as you have threatened,
my Beloveds will help me heal (even if this means I have
to walk away from them) and my Heart will never belong to you.