[Dandeli]

You are quite plain, Miss Meanderwalk.
"Why yes, I am."

What killed the you of yesterday, Miss Meanderwalk?

"I would argue 'revived' is a more apt term."

Yet, what is it, Miss Meanderwalk, that compels this decorum?

"Why, I am no longer a beast, of course."

 

Why does your heart yet beat, Miss Meanderwalk?
"I've learned that's something I'm not meant to answer."

What makes you angry?
"Her. Them. Me."

What makes you cry?
"Me. Me. Them, because of me."

Are you doing the right thing?
"That's impossible. There is no right. Only dreams."

What will you say when it all ends?
"I believe.. goodnight."

Well, what will you say when I'm gone?

"Fuck you."

Is there a point to it all?
"Yes. No. Maybe-so."
"What matters is that it was real."

And what will you do?
"My best."

And who will you help?
"Those I can reach."

[Dandeli]

Bewitched by the sea's call,                                                                                   
I'm ensnared, unable to see.                                          
                                                                                  Lost in currents, devoid of clarity.
                                                         Firm in my stance, I think that I'm right.

Yet what is it to those around me?

I love you, oh.                                                                         
Words submerged, unfound.                                        
                                     
                                                     Adrift, lost in the swell,
                               This heart seeks a beacon.
 
                Love once eludes, but I can hear it now.
I call to you, with this ocean's song.                    
 
I've been a fool.                                                                              
Drowned in my mind's depths.                                         
                                                                       Yet you, o' tempest,
                                                       Thawed this icy heart.
 
You've rendered me whole.                             
               A treasure worth the morrow's call.

 

 
If I could repay,
I would give it all.

 

 
Oh, what a fool.

[Dandeli]

If I could will it, everyone would dream forever!

But isn't that misguided?

It I could will it, no harm would ever come!

But how would people ever feel!?

 

 

If I could will it, impermanence would fall!               

But what point then would there be to it all?!                                         
 
 

             If I could will it, fulfilment could be found in joy alone!

       But that's an invalid equation, it doesn't add up!

                                           And yet there is a karmic balance that must be upkept, is that right?!                      

                                                 There is no joy without the presence of suffering!                    

 

And yet there is a need of pain to temper one's will!              

That's right.         

             I already vowed to entertain this folly!
       Yes you did, yes you did.

I want to rise above these circumstances.     

That's a good start to motivation!   

Destiny, could you be in my control?
    Temper your expectations!

Oh, wayward soul, let these waters enthrall,               

              You, who've borne the brunt of chaos' squall.
 

Anoint me your Champion, clad in your woe,                                   

Those who profit from strife, let them know.                       

                                 In my travail, find solace, in our shared grief,

                                                           Together, in victory or folly, fostered shall be relief.
 

For a day of tranquil repose, we both yearn,          

                                   Let these sorrows finally adjourn.

[Dandeli]

Clumsy hands follow a guide on how to create straw baskets.

Satin lace binds the top flap shut.

Acrylics spell out the picture of sea life on the surface.

Gentle footfalls greet the sandbanks beneath the waxing moon.

And with a push, a delivery is sent to sea.
 

Why?
"The dead do not deserve to be marred."
                                                                          tranquil shores, guide these peoples not astray,

 in rebirth, allow them a kinder fate,                                                       Why?
"Their beauty is theirs to wield and theirs alone."

Why?                                                                           keep them on the cycle's currents,
"A tale's end is tragic, and unavoidable, but the last line should be their own."

 and in rebirth, carry with them their greatest dream,        What do you think will happen when you die?
"The Reaper's Judicator doesn't die, wasn't that established?"

Didn't you resign?                                                             show the path, little light of hope
".. yes. I just can't bear to stare truth in the face."
                                                                                                                                          guide them to the gilded star.  

Why so?
"It's natural."

[Dandeli]

 

A sirenian calms herself in a cave.

 

"Oh First one.

I would burden myself with your ardent heart."

"Oh First one.

And yet things are very muddling, aren't they?"

"Oh First one.
You, who died impassioned, amid war's tumult, is moment's answer the one that's right?"

"Oh First one.

This heart feels as though it has made a big mistake."

"Oh First one.
I am like you. I am not like the Serpent. And like you, him I will seek."

"Oh First one.

I must call upon your Father. Therein lies strength: therein lies wisdom."

"Oh First one.
I've followed my heart long. But isn't it time to follow my mind?"

"Oh, Me.

Let matter coalesce in harmony.
 

Balance like Day and Night.
 

Like Sun and Moon.
 

Shark and Fodder.
  

Wind and Stillness.
  
Land and Ocean.

 

Heart and Mind.

 

Let's let three beats elapse, and then three breaths."

[Dandeli]

 

Words and rhymes,                  

                     Gratitude and happy cries,

Hugs and foods, and writing,

Trips, and exploration, and fighting,                            

Learned to love them so, I did back then,

                Or did I now? There crows the hen.

  

Little bird, sat gentle in the back of my mind,                                         

                  You, which has been silenced, entertaining my Mother's lullaby,

You came to croak, in the ending spurned; a lack of hope, yet true emotions churned.

You almost claimed it, that dream so faraway.             

                                 And what a fool you are for it.
  

Almost lead astray.

  

Spring is no season to die; a sentiment that sings.                                                          

 

                                                     And yet trees surrender their blossoms to the wayward winds.

Butterflies lather futures on petals, knowing their lives will soon rescind.

  

I sang the song of sacrifice, so that you would yet endure.

And yet within it, a horror enclosed: you can never predict life's final door.
   
                         And yet I cannot scorn them.
Meaning therein that pain.                          
   You cannot shun the reflection.     
                                  For daring to don your own mien.

 

    If there was a choice,

I would do it all again.   

[Dandeli]

Death; how it would come for us like the changing of the seasons.

  

We do not move the world - the world would move us; it is an inevitable part of this cycle, of which so much beauty is sown therein.

This I have learned. Seasons turn brings forth life anew, and then takes it away; a picture like the waxing and waning tide.

 
 

This is fine.

 
 

Death is an impartial fellow; the wintry chill and the torrid summer heat does not hold hate, nor discriminates.

All deaths aren't especially terrible. The High King, the paltry-gnawing peasant, a hero of great deeds, a villain of abhorrence.

  

Your age, your personality - wealth, beauty, status.

They are all meaningless in the face of death.

 

Death comes for all; the big fish and the one small.

Death is a necessity.

  

Yet for many it is not so equal.

  

For many one would breathe in excruciating agony, drink deep of sorrow's venom.

An answer is owed at the end of life's trip; why is one to suffer and die?

  
 Many receive gates unto newer pastures, brighter fields.

And yet many would be bound in inexplicable agony, anchored to the depths, never to find the strength to continue.

 

Death is fair in it's equal inevitability.
  

But never is it fair in it's enactment.

 

It is why my fair lady's sacrifice is beautiful.

It is why my fair lady's descent into great darkness, sorrow self-assured, is such a thing to behold.

To tread toward an unfair verdict is a strength: to go forward into fire and torment to achieve one thing: Love.

 

 

I will probably die one of these days to something stupid, following these ends to a reckless crescendo, against their best wishes.

  

And antithetical to my very loving intent, everyone can hate me for it, I suppose.