Wind and Water, Silk and Steel
January 20, 2016 § Leave a comment
They are wind and silvered water, the intense razor calm of a hurricane’s eye. They are the wet velvet moss in the greenblack shadows of deep elder forests. A storm’s chaos whirls about them, threatening consumption of self or of others, yet there is silent order within.
Tension. Opposing forces held in a precarious balance. Trickster-ridden storm-crow, seeking, cataloging, weighing. Their scent is fresh-turned earth after a cold rain, lingering mist coating moss and pine, a cave’s entrance with its cool dank air.
Storm-rider, sleek-feathered, shadow-draped: these are part of their name in my senses. Wanderer, seeker, migrating scavenger of words/thought/memory. Cold bright eyes in a dark cowl, gleam of silvered glass, toothed ripples beneath the death-silent surface of a pool. Hidden edges, stilting bird-grace, ferality kept in tight check with a shining veneer of utmost decorum.