Sunday, January 01, 2006


Lavengro and I were enjoined (hiding)
beneath a shading wagon playing mumble-t-peg,
when conversation drifted to perceptions
of magick and epiphenomina.

rather than offer an opinion
(which is all any one can pontificate),
I told a story -- or started one,
as he is constantly being interupted --
or in search of another bottle of wine,



They came, or perhaps assembled would be more precise, for no one had the competence to call or herald, nor would these have heeded a command by any measure. They just understood that a shift to minor key vibration had created a hollow in the fabric of knowledge -- so they came to 'scratch an itch', shall we say. As they gathered from close to 'say when' and 'over yonder' and 'just beyond', the reflections of their energy brought attention to a specific place; and conditions of a contest, and limits equally repugnant to all -- and thereby extremely balanced fair. And so it began -- and thus there is a tale to tell -- and that is enough -- or so I am told.

Now to make sense of this you will have to conceptualize who or what they are -- or were -- it's tough to explain when all of those words apply. So just suppose you can see a little glimpse of these going-ons, like peaking through a knothole at the universe. Some came from a place where they were called alchemists, but that claim would hardly hold in South Unture. Others were lovingly called witches, but were more like music teachers that spiritual mechanics. A couple or three would be acknowledged as wizards in my old home town, but were barely remembered in their home of claim. No matter actually, for all forespoke their trappings and dressed in soft beige robes and used short friendly names that what you would know is not. The only thing that served common bond were stories told and dance and song; for they were only men and women after all.

The meadow was curious only in that it was unused, slightly up a bit from the valley floor and reasonable distant from three towns well met. Black soil nurtured dreams of seeds and corms and bulbs in turn, and the surrounding forest gave forth game and fowl to follow the central stream, where trout competed with morning mist-laughter for sparkle and allure. Perhaps it was just that no one had ever found the place -- yet -- or something. It would serve!

(to be continued)



At 1:28 AM, Blogger Gail Kavanagh said...

Lucky Lavengro, to be hearing this story first hand, told in your own voice. Try not to notice me hiding under the caravan steps.

At 1:40 AM, Blogger Imogen Crest said...

At least you two can have some guy to guy talk when the mood arises!

At 3:21 AM, Blogger faucon of Sakin'el said...

Well, one might wonder why there is a paucity of male participants on these blogs. Surely, on six continents there are those who write stories and poetry and a re not afraid of creative females. Maybe no one ever invites them?

Me -- I'm just honored to be a sister. Em just laughs and tells people of all the girlfriends I have in far away lands.

'guy to guy' talk? In any group I gravitate to the most interesting conversations regardless of gender -- not my fault these usually include more women than men.

At 3:52 AM, Blogger Imogen Crest said...

Methinks, by the sound of your response, Faucon, that you are more than happy to slip across to the Gypsy Camp when you feel the need. Other than that, it sounds like it's just plain enjoyment being in this group. Maybe the blokes just can't measure up? Who knows? Lucky Em isn't the jealous type;-) She sounds pretty proud to me!

At 6:40 AM, Blogger Lois said...

I doubt that too many Aussie blokes would agree with you Faucon,
that your interesting conversations are usually with more women attending than men.

There most certainly is a bad habit here in this country of Australia (In some cicles)
That the blokes get together to talk sport,work ,hobbies,and whatever blokes talk about..

And leave women to find their own way around the gathering...
One needs only to watch replays of politicians in Parliament to see this, with the men yelling
over the top of each other..

Perhaps there are those out there on 6 continents who write as you Faucon,but I doubt it...

I am sure you are loving Em telling of your "Harem"
You blokes are all talk....

Lois (Muse of the Sea) 15.1.06

PS. Have printed out Episode 1.2.and 3 to take up to the land of nod to read..needs concentrating on, Lois


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