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Posts Tagged ‘signs’

The sanctum smelled of incense and human sweat.

An airless space reverberating whispers of prayer.

She folded a piece of cloth with the holy verse

dipped in animal blood. This is an amulet.

For someone who is afraid of thieves.

 

She knelt across the table ready with her questions

“Do you need a husband? Do you need a wife?”

“Do you need another? Do you need a child?”

“The lines on your palm says you will be rich.”

“The card says you will find your true love.”

 

Then she brought in her candles, started

to light it with a match. She began to read

from a withered book- in its brittle leaves

filled with strange symbols of spells and magic.

Summoning wisdom from the invisible.

 

“Someone wants to harm you, better beware.”

“Keep this stone in a bottle and hide it in your closet.”

She has seen it all- customers come and go

leaving her money for that token of gratitude.

And accepting them as a way of getting by.

 

She keep on caressing the old crystal ball,

ignoring the signs of her grey and thinning hair.

She believed she has power to prevail death.

But  time slowly creeps like a thief in the night

when she can no longer be speaking about

 

the future.

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There is dancing.

A night in an icy land.

They are spirits-

ancestors of high realms-

gathering, around

ceremonial sun flares.

 

Green luminous rings

of star trails,

forming foxfire

and fire dragons, whisking

into atmosphere

their celestial tails.

 

Shimmering filament-

in the vast firmament.

Iridescent signs.

Streaks of neon,

a surreal reflection

into the strange horizon.

 

I danced phenomena-

To the mystery

of the northern lights.

Warping time

Of years beyond

your polar shadow.

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I type the words.

Blank, and it bleeps per second

until the rush of thoughts

smothered this numbness,

lifeless touch.

 

I search and scroll down

through ages and ages,

stretches into aeons

beneath the fragiled

randomness of senses

Of anecdotes-

without explanation

to things that

I didn’t see it coming.

 

I fumbled to signals,

deciphering signs

immobile to reason

while the impulses

will tread the pages

of dot-imprints

extracted from archaic,

medieval chatter.

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