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As I placed the kiln dried wood upon the altar , I thought of the One who I was to bury here. She who was so unlike the others.. A Woman of principal and morals , yet of the wilderness in her heart. She who fought and taught and learned the ways ...of the cultures of many and few. She who spoke the language of the people but not of the country, where government of the people and by the people did not exist..NOW I LAY HER DOWN TO SLEEP...I PRAY HER SOUL BUDHA TO KEEP....I TRUST HER BODY TO THE GREAT DEEP...WHOLE OF DHARMA...KHARMICLY KEPT FOR REASONS DEAR.

Mie Takuye Oyasin
A Poem by Eclipsing Moon-blood red


we are all related in NA sioux language.transcendental look at relationships...



Words of the creation, softly ,jaggedly, tumbled from my mouth...



Blindingly Lit by the Cosmotic forces, thunderingly struck ...





As a two headed drum of goatskin, beats the primal rhythm...



Twump...pa Thump...resoundingly beckoning all spirit matter to proclaim....



I am worthy ...We are worthy ..We are all related in creation..

.

One Clan
A Poem by Eclipsing Moon-blood red


holiday season is on us again





One Clan



There is thunder in the sound of a horse’s hooves



And crackle of lightening in the crisp, clear breaking



Of a morn on the tall peaks.



Alas the reverie of the season is tried and found to be wanting.



All amiss of buttered *** and candy canes.



Saturated with the intensity…



Of our remembered Holidays, past.



Do you find a value in this our most way-laid Happiness?







Let us conjure the spirits of a truer time …



Snow on the ground and earth mothers feeling



Of the all -encompassing hug



Of Being one in kith and kin







One Clan

Chapter Three



Déjà vu- poem by Muse


My life, sometimes I ponder,

God.....did he fashion my hands and skin from another?

Am I just a recovered tired vessel,

refurbished lung and breath, reassembled, to be something fragile?

My fears and defects I feel are not my own,

borrowed and rented maybe, from someone once known.

Your voice just a proverbial song.

It feels ancient, but like an undercurrent, it carries me along.

My story perhaps is a plagiarism of you,

a reincarnation of what I might answer, and what I might do.

With every deliberate ill-mannered step,

someone before me, has already passed, lingered, and slept.

My soul, has it lived before?

It seems to be the same narrow path, but a different revolving door.

Seeking answers in restorative dreams,

this body, however temporary, is not what it seems.

My thumbprint a reminder of her,

your girlish vision, a familiar relic, with a haunting blur.

Is this a case of refuted Deja vu?

Or just maybe, she's a vicarious spirit, that has been there too.



I.... felt as If  I was dropped into the middle of the park like a tornado touched down and regurgitated my entirety into the dirt.

Siting and looking around I thought to recover my senses from the last years worth of experiences and the seemingly odd and recurring ???types of things. A kind of Déjà vu of someone elses life.They must have been a mystic because they seemed to see…I seemed to see…as thru a proverbial glass darkly.

I found that peoples thoughts and memories were easily seen and felt in their presence and that their entire life histories were… Mine ..just for the looking or rather thinking of the thought to trigger their inner most secrets. The intricacies of their lives and the interrelated woven tapestry of their Dharmas and Karmas were unfolded to my mind and knowings as one continuous scroll of life.

Invigorating and compelling to be part and parcel to the workings of Life , but confusing and tiring keeping up and interacting as a vocation.I was supposed to be a Home Design specialist with a hobby of -White Lite WICCA….Hobby of the weekend I chuckled to myself.

Well ,now I was fully awake and centered again ..and as I rose from my place in the dirt I noticed I had been sitting as was far too familiar as of late and pondering the strangeness of my life…in the middle of a strange place , not remembering how I got there or why. Well so much the bother ,I was here now and I believe my calendar says I have , oh yes an appointment I’m late for already. Up I get and brushing myself off,I head out in the direction for my Meeting with a small company of Artists decorating their loft and space for exhibiting their recent works. Clover- Wolf was the odd name of their business.

Well maybe a quick design idea there…wolfs head over a four leaf clover…hmm well maybe not, Lame at best.







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© 2011 Eclipsing Moon-blood red

Chapter Two -poem-Neva Flores



Sometimes I get tired of having so little time
and plainly seeing my surroundings
crying out before the scent of dawn
has bloomed.
Can a single cloud breathe in
all of the warm air
that hails my universe,
removing all reason to wake up,
live life and resume?

I look at fleeing ships
whose sails are full of thunder
and I hear a song
dissolving the wildest parts of me.
Each note dances in the breeze
dropping its own melody
inside my heart
until it becomes the only thing
I hear inside my soul
and I struggle to even
breathe.

I was a cabin boy on a tallmasted ship.In the Straits of Gibraltor.Yes they did not know I was female but that was my well kept secret.one does have to survive in this world and by hook or crook I planned on doing just that.my name is Samuel.well really Samantha..been called Sam a while so the transition /switch to samuel was fairly easy.I figure Im close to 8yrs, maybe 9 and I'm scrawny and quick.Business was done in cramped quarters so no-one was the wiser.My best friend was Joque, he kinda wanted a son I reckon, he was partial to Me and gave Me the easy work and fed Me all the time..you know the fresh stuff so I wasn't inclined to scurvy..apples whens theys were here...oranges and salt in rations he kinda shared with me.Odd how I was found at sea and in the middle of nowheres they say..just like I was plunked down in the ocean like a drowning rat , lucky it was in front of the HMS Frigate Triumph..not much to see but it was dryer than I had seen in a while...anyways Joque fished me out and dryed Me up ..said he'd never seen a boy with that much hair.so a hair cut was in order...threw me some dry clothes that dinna smell like stinky fish and here I were.





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© 2011 Eclipsing Moon-blood red

Beauty Is As Beauty Does--chapter one

A Chapter by Eclipsing Moon-blood red

Galaxy Stanza



A Poem by Raven Starhawk



Nimbus arms embrace celestial terrain

as it cascades infinity

wielding zephyr's wand

and sipping inferno's nectar



In zenith's hour

epochal monoliths mystify

Goliath arrogance

as it persecutes a nebula
while astral satiety arrests the beast

and galaxy stanzas resume





Beauty is as Beauty Does-

A Story by Eclipsing Moon-blood red



In the dark recesses
of the void, we call our universe a cloud was forming, one devoid of morals or
intent.



The molecules came
together under the thought processes of a malignantly minded old sorcerer,
blended with his hope of a lasting endowment of centuries of learning and spell
castings.



He was searching for a
one to carry on his knowledge and spells of potion and this cloud could carry
out the espying in secret as he wished...under cover of dark and
thought...unless a spirit was descerned by another caster of woven potions.



Today in time was
measured more by centuries and decades as the process took... its
form...questing for the entity as this universe and others had been targeted
for his type of Magic...sorcerers specialized in their trade and like all good
practitioners he had his fireworks shows with energy beams and potion majic mixed
to control and manipulate the certain being he was working with...for power was
the name of his gambit...the access and addition of as well as controlling in
the sphere of a society...let’s just say he got his jollies from using other’s
well- earned energy…What they worked for...he stole and reveled in the process.

It just so happened
that today...his cloud was in the vicinity of a planet known to the Magical
world as Earth...Terra...this being inhabited by beings in many dimensions and
frequencies...it seemed to home in on a child...being birthed as a logical
consideration ..So that; further study was merited

Marking this beings
location in the foothills of a hidden mountain range ...in the Tibetan range and
former birthplace of a religious teacher known as Lord
Buddha...Siddhartha...and a nice long history in the telling of the Monks who
followed him...this time a twist a counter turn of the incarnation was a Female
child …Looking to be imbued with the same set of majical powers...and the
beginning of another time and space of reign as the first...excellent time to
lay claim to the mind and teachings of this ...ONE..Of Beauty.











Her fingers curled into her palms. Beneath her fingertips she felt an electric shock, almost gasped but then the pulse was through her. The diary was etched in her memory; its feel, shape and smell. It was almost as if it was a breathing thing rather than an inanimate object. The cool plastic feel of a pen settled over each relaxing digit and it was as if she was writing the next entry.



Darkness lingered around her eyes as she shifted her weight to one foot. Glancing at the end of the avenue she gave a weak smile to anyone who passed by and dared to look at the two officers and teenagers. Then as the lamp next to them flickered, its bulb ready to give way to shadows, the first officer stood perfectly tall once more and stared with unmoving features.



Owen stammered, looked from Candace to the first officer and then the second. He pushed his glasses up with a shaky forefinger and shuffled closer to the lamp post where it beamed a dully. She tugged at his sleeve and nodded toward the police car. Its spinning lights ceased as the first officer hopped in the driver's seat.



"Come on, Owen," Candace said and was pulling him along toward the back where the second officer was standing with his hand on the handle.



"Are we being arrested," he asked, Candace pushing him into the small caged seat. Staring through a steel mesh, he asked, "What is going on?"



Moments later they were riding into the night. Soft music was playing over the radio but only at a whisper as the two officers engaged in conversation. They hardly spoke like authority figures and Candace sensed Owen must be in a world of questions but as they sat with silence between them she simply smiled.













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© 2011 Eclipsing Moon-blood red