I fully intended on posting more this weekend, but once I left my house Friday night things got busy and stayed that way until late last night when I finally got still and rested. It was a great weekend; I went out with some friends to celebrate a birthday and had a wonderful night that turned into a lovely morning of delicious breakfast and some Red Dead Redemption 2. Then I got to have a long lunch with one of my very dearest friends in the world. We don't get a lot of time together, but when we do it is always perfect and we pick up like we never missed a beat. My new favorite picture of the two of us is included in the weekend update photos, it's so good.
I have to go out and help work on fences at the barn so I do not have a lot of time, but I promised two people I'd post a poem for them, so I'll post them and then a few pics. Hope y'all had wonderful weekends as well!
-Eluria
dream proverbs
i dreamt of snakes last week,
and a solar eclipse
two days later
i was bit
and
i was the only one
who saw the eclipse.
not through a pinhole,
but with my own eyes.
"East, east" i cried
but no one could see
just as with the snakes.
"Run, run" i screamed
and everyone ran clear
but me.
upon awaking from being bitten
i worried
but i felt no pain
and nothing foul
ran across my path
i began to wonder
if perhaps the bite
delivered a serum
and not venom
if perhaps the dream
were a catalyst
for a metaphysical shedding
of sorts.
it was when
this thought occurred
that i dreamt of the eclipse.
a confirmation
of the setting sun
and rising moon
of my selves
colliding.
upon noting
that only i could see the eclipse
i gave a deep, contented sigh
for my own sake
i can hide in plain sight
as long as it may take
and i will be safe in my knowledge
that i can't rip the skin off the snake.
anatomy
these holes in human hearts,
how they linger
formulaic and cold
they grow and fester
and take over so quick
without aging a day you find yourself old
who are we to build this castle?
to place ourselves upon these thrones
to crown ourselves Max, to be king of
these tiny personal kingdoms
that will turn to dust with our bones
the self same dust of kingdoms passed
lies in the mortar of these walls
the agonizing stench of forgotten worlds
awaits those that roam the halls
forgotten in honer, forgotten in glory
forgotten completely; not even in story
may you find their names
all that remains is a whimper
that takes false hope and douses
the walls with kerosene
and if you rebuild and continue tradition?
a plague on both your houses.
