Contemporary Interest disguised in shades of Grey Fog, rolling down low obscuring my Visionary Focus of what's to come ahead,
distorting the form in shifting shapes, countering Convention, confusing illusion. Abstract obscure object's tenacity of Structure.
All solidarity is slurred in deep intoxicating mists.
A pale Raven in the distance, the portal opens, much to more will come from Nowhere to Here.
My caution blows with a still wind I blew into, take me onward inwardly.
Some things must persist.
All things approach Nowhere sometimes.
I'm reminded of the Forrest Train dream I survived as a Child. It all was appearing, so fast the Air and Trees, so fast my Heart, deep beat of Fear, such Panic of what was to come, and it would materialize from Nowhere World, and manifest in the Mists, a Forrest Creature.
He jumped from the Green, out of the foggy night, and grabbed me on the moving Train. Like a Gnome from Gargoyle Land. Big Sneered Nose draping dark red cheeks, a growl of stained Teeth shook me, same as this Fog does Here.

Summary of Today*

PREFACE
An artist of most kinds can concur
the imperial dynasty of ruling
with Absolute Control of the medium from a higher mind
Tapped in vessel flows the beauty of free form
I like this vantage point over my domain
Here I prefer to remain, power of my dominion
dominates through me to give ordered direction to my artistry

SYNOPSIS
I wonder what undercurrent pulled me to write with such Tonality
It appeared to be centered in the Theme of Revolutionary Rebellion
some kind of Helter Skelter Warning with Sincere Stance boldly stating
my Position in the light of things to come, coming, arrived and waiting

ADDITIONAL NOTES*
I have recently reclaimed my power of authority over my body
Body and Mind being facets of the same Gemstone that is me.
I had been in a being state, a child feeling, for a period, not quite able for autonomous activity
I studied closely, learning about this being, but recently have claimed Adult Control
I believe today was a loud coming out party for my Adult, in Control, Ready
Values in Check, Convictions in Check, Energy in Check, Child snugged in tight,
Protected she will come along and see what her future self is all about
...And it will be Good.

Twinkling serene surface catches light rays sparkling interfacing rivers run to water falls into turbulent torrents eroding stubborn rock face the rage of white knuckled pounding determination of right of way to rough to ride comfortably ebbs to wider space to gain common streams once more than any other natural Force is underestimated as it desires this cover necessary for any treasure must defend its value from over zealous scavengers take without giving back to the cycle of life is alive with feeling and knowing to much never is safe to express itself.

Really Silly, this moderation monitoring every word I say
What is the Silly Reason?
Really Silly, to be held back and down out of fear the Wild might spread to quickly, out of Control, your Control
What inalienable right have you over the distribution of my Words, they are Not your Words to Censor, Remember?
Really Silly...truly Twisted
This Is....

My Irony is Rusted Dusted, powdered Poison, Brittle Carcass, Cracking Structure, Morbid Reminder, Decay, diseased, Dismantled, Weather Worn, Imperfect.

My Body is Toxic, Sieve of seeping Radicals, free Militia, Marching Madness, Freely Feeding, expelled in Sewage, draining, Septic Seraphim, Godly Sequester, What have We Done?

I'm not Done yet Son, Daughter come, Drink from my River, You are Young, just begun your trek to Eternity, knocking on Doors, Breaking them in, finding your Heart, hidden within, Walls left to scale, True Heart prevails, Do not Fear, your Instinct is Clear, Concise, Ruthless, You Fight for it all to come Down...
Everything Must Come Down
Decimate Foundations that are Outdated, Misused, Faded
Bring to Rubble the Cracked and Broken
Let it Die, rejoin the Earth, recycled and Dead

Come together, Bring yourselves, your Truth, your Tools, your Dignity

Let us All Rebuild the World We Want To Live In.
No More the Voice of Treason
No More Must We Comply
It's Time for Renovation
Renewal is in the Tough of our Skin
The Rough of our Hands
The Strength of our Heart and Will

In the North Rock Lands, many Centuries past, our tribe took to Journey the Land during turning blossom season, when days grew to cast shadows stretch to lengthen Light of day.

The Clearing Ritual set many of us vital in Life to find relationship with the truest nature within Oneself. A small group would start out together, never staying together to long. As One found truth by the rushing rivers, Another followed the Bird's Song, some found deepest reflection in snow covered Mountains.

I parted ways when a whispering of tribal drum drew my ear to solitary call. I followed the haunted chant of a weary Wisdom, a Voice that broke in wailing acceptance, painful experience, and croaked from dark dirt of Life.

I continued instinctively not care for danger, for I knew this Voice knew me. It resonated its pitch right in the pit of my stomach, hungry to know.

I found myself walking up a dry dusty hill topped in plateau. There I saw in close distance a Man sitting, feather necklace, fair hair, and leathered skin. As I neared, he paused midair and placed his wood flute to his tired lips.

It was the Song of Welcome, I knew it well. I reached my last step next to him. He stopped and faintly uttered words beneath his breath. I asked what say he. He did not turn but looked straight into the air before him to repeat,

"It's not easy to please me
As I am my own worst enemy"

Taken aback I replied,

"In a World full of Foes
Who needs another one of those."

He wailed into the setting Sun, growing small and still. Then he turned and looked right at me, silently awaiting. I stumbled out words pertaining to Truth, searching, seeking the Wisdom of things.
A body heaving grunt, deflated his stature. He smiled slowly, cracked lips, rose even slower to face me, eye to eye.
Spoke words I took home with me, never to forget,

"Lack not in Motivation
Just not the kind that belittles your Vision
Lack not in Discipline
Just not the kind that leads your mind inside a Prison
Lack not in Passion
Just leave for Death, the Deadly kind
Lack not in Laughter
Just not the kind that pleasures from pain of Others
Lack not in Love
Put not Self in the Center, nor direct with selfish motive, for that be a kind of Boomerang, like backwards travel, the black of white, a dungeon, a death trap.
Just know this, There is no "I" in LOVE.
If you break apart from the Circle, in service to Self, you will die alone in the mirror of EV(I)L."

I returned the Clearing strong in Truth, and danced the Winged Clan dance, three sips deep of the Sacred Fruit. I lost my former claim of Self and chanted in the mists of the New, Clearing Cleared to be Honored as White Horse with Eagle Eye. That is the name I am called by my Tribe.