from the Crucible of Love

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Ivy, and The Dove

 

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as Time’s wake

draws It’s shadow across

The Corridors of Her Heart,
o              o
She looks to The Universe,
V
upon Her Celestial Sea,

a Nocturnal Velvet

of Her Dominion,

toward The Shores of

Avalon, toward Her Sunrise,

      a shimmering, and distant, Cyan Sky . . .

She remembers, Echoes of Days, and Nights,

Long Ago, when Her Fireflies laughed at The Moon,

as They walked as One, along The Path to KnowWhere,

quietly regarding Their Reflection in Pools of Innocence,

Windows of Each Other’s Eyes, in Their Secret Eden,

under The Gaze of a Mockingbird, Their Sentry,

before whom All shall pass, She remembers,

when They danced, across The Heavens,

when They sailed across The Sea of Glass,

when They made Love in The Fires of Creation,

when Their Whispers in The Morning ignited The Suns

of Skies Beyond, when, from Their Blessed Union was born
I I I                         I I I
The Light of The Millennia, Eons Ago, She remembers, and waits,

as Always, at The Point of Eternity, for The Return, of Her Love, Again,

yes, She remembers, a Time before Memory became The Well of Fallen Tears,

She remembers The Days before Infinity cried, The Days before The Music died,

She remembers, and lights a Candle, and smiles, longing for Ever Still,

yes, She remembers, and as Always,

      She will . . .

 

 

 

 

from Book III – The Diamond – The Eighth DoveTale – The Bridge of Dreams

 

 

for a very dear Friend,  of mine . . .

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to kickstart this StoryTeller’s Dream

To ignite the release of a new book that rings as clear as a bell,

     take hold of my hands, they are warm, and I have stories to tell . . .

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  buy the new Digital and Print Editions on Amazon and Barnes&Noble

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The Voyage of Kings ~ A StoryTeller’s Dream is a wing-swept journey through the Universe, beginning in the heart of a ‘fallen angel’ called Ever, as he wanders through the chances and circumstances of humanity, as he drifts within the vast emptiness of his abandonment and exile among the stars, along with the fateful and far-reaching consequences his self-serving pursuit of an ideal has brought to bear upon all Creation, and especially upon his beloved Always, whose tears are the river of this tale . . .

A journey that unfolds around his surrender to a spiritual awakening, and ends with his discovery and final embrace of a remarkably simple notion – that when fools set out to find what they already possess, they discover only the follies of men . . .

Born of an ancient yet unremembered legend, a fairy’s tale, as old as rhyme and even Time itself, captured in the echoes of uncountable voices across the millennia, comes an achingly beautiful love story, wrapped in the mists and myths of a place called Avalon, and whispering of the mysteries and majesties of God . . .

 

The Voyage of Kings ~ A StoryTeller’s Dream

Kickstarter Project

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Kickstarter Screenshot

 

The Voyage of Kings ~ A StoryTeller’s Dream

Kickstarter Project

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The book is a thoroughly unique collection of short stories, poetry, and lyrical prose called DoveTales, that weave an amazing trilogy of dreams into the most vibrant threads of faith, courage, and devotion, which are all then so cleverly crafted to become a glorious tapestry of love, loss, and the triumph of love, again . . . as seen through the eyes of Angels, as they peer into the very hearts and souls of those who always seem to search for Glory, when all they really ever need, is Grace . . .

And who might enjoy reading The Voyage of Kings ?

Anyone possessing even a small spark of spiritual insight or inclination, and would be open to considering an infinitely simple concept of where they might fit in the grand scheme of things, and the quite attainable realities of their role within it . . .

Anyone possessing a sense of wonder, and a welcoming regard for a heavenly presence in their world, along with the acknowledgement and embrace of the more compassionate virtues such as patience, tolerance, acceptance and forgiveness, with all respect given to uplifting the human condition beyond measure . . .

Anyone seeking a remarkably different view of ~mankind, as it relates to womankind~; a dramatically elevated premise regarding the Feminine Ideal and its divine or spiritual significance . . . that will turn all male-dominated religious biases and historically gender-centric portrayals of a woman’s place, position or importance in the pantheon of God’s cast of characters, on its collective head . . .

Anyone seeking inspirational, lyrical, romantic, or poetic verse or prose, and wishes to explore alternative expressions of inspired, enlightened, theological, or purpose-driven thought . . . are fully cognizant and accepting of a Christian paradigm of living, and believe that when our creative knowledge embraces our artistic desires, we can achieve global understanding . . .

 

 

 

Front Cover

Front Cover

 

 The Voyage of Kings ~ A StoryTeller’s Dream

Kickstarter Project

 

Back Cover

Back Cover

beyond The Realms of unCertainty

 

The Path,  of Freedom

 (  is The Will,  of Desire  )

 

 

flying,  Up through The Mists,  of Eden,

with The Might of a billion Prayers,  She

lifts Her Eyes,  toward a Pale Blue Gem,

set Far and Away across This Nocturnal

     Sea of God’s Dominion . . .

Rhyme and Reason

are Divinity’s Winds, 

that hold Her Wings Aloft,  as

She ponders the distance from Here, 

      to Eternity,  on The Other Side,  of The Sky . . .

as The Sigh of God softly blows Her ever Onward

She is steadfast in Her Resolve for She carries with Her

The Rose of Friendship,  delicately woven into The Tapestry

      of Her Life,  holding Still in Her Heart,  The Dreams of Avalon . . .

for She,  is a Butterfly of Uncommon Beauty,  and a Monarch,  of

Peerless Grace,  and as StarLight blankets Her Path,  beginning Her

Grand and Glorious Voyage to The Sun,  She turns Again to face The Day, 

and sees,  a Flock,  of Ten Thousand

      More . . .

 

 

 

Book III,  The Diamond ( Third Beginning ) The Tenth DoveTale – The Cliffs of Andromeda

 

 

once cast, from a Distant Fire

 

The Prologue

 

A Bridge,  A Cross,  Eternity

(  Before The Beginning  )

 

 

 

i

Far Ago and Long Away, in The Time before Was, in The Land of Because, a Tale of Two Lovers began . . .

on The Eve of Nocturna,  Now known,  as The Wedding of Hope and FullFillMeant . . .

as seen,  through The Eyes of a Butterfly,  called Avalon . . .

as told,  by an Iron Horse . . .

named Sky . . .

      from The Very First Moment,  living inside what could only be called EveryWhere,  was God . . .

      and withIn God,  were borne The Essences,  and The Attributes,  of A Man,  and A Woman . . .

      and The Man and The Woman,  eternally bound as One,  were called Ever,  and Always . . .

      and This Blessed Union of These Two Hearts and These Two Souls,  became Love . . .

and,  One Day,  while walking The Breadth,  and The Depth,  of Their Dominion,

Ever,  turns His Eyes to Always,  and says,  I will walk All The Days of Infinity,

to find One Rose,  as Lovely,  as Your Smile . . . and so He did,  and from that

      Moment on,  until Every Moment since,  noOne has known,  where Ever,  was . . .

  *      *      *

as Always waited,  at The Center of EveryThing She holds Dear,  Ever wandered

 across The Millennia,  following The Light from a Distant Star,  searching The Heavens

for The Meaning of Life,  and finding only,  The Folly,  of Men,  whereEver,  He went . . . and

along The Way,  He was met by Travelers,  solitary Messengers from both Far and Wide,  who

told Him,  of A Rose,  that dwelled in a Place called Avalon,  a pale blue Gem in this Dark Velvet

Sky above Him,  and as He gazes toward It,  He slowly turns to face The Day,  and says, 

The Light of The Millennia,  cast from a Distant Fire,

 roam It will for Ever,  The Path of

      My Desire . . .

 

  

 

 

 

i

for as Long as He can remember,  His Journey had taken Him Far across The Cosmos, 

Far beyond The IcanSea,  Far beyond The Reach,  and Well past The Broken Sound,

      Ever spiraling Outward,  Deeper,  and Deeper,  into The Worlds of Time,  and Tide . . .

as He approached the blue Jewel,  Avalon,  nestled in The Nocturnal Velvet Sky,

at Last,  having known the long,  dark Kiss of Night,  for what felt so like Eternity,

while pondering a place He could not quite remember,  and a Face He cannot

seem to forget,  He moves Forward,  into The Arms of Destiny,  waiting,  upon

      these Shores of Longing,  and finally comes to rest,  upon The Rail,  of Sighs . . .

and All at Once,  He feels a great Hush,  moving slowly across The Universe,

as The Air around Him vibrates softly,  as if The Sky were soon to crack from

The Weight of Certainty,  He knows that The Rose He has walked All Creation

to find is Here,  and just when The Dawn,  gives up Her Promise to The Day,  He

sees,  high up on a Hill,  now etched in His Heart for Ever,  a Man,  nailed,  to a Cross,

      and The Man on The Cross,  was The Rose of Avalon . . . and The Rose of Avalon,  was His Son . . .

  

 

 

and Now,  beyond

All Realms of Chance and CircumStance,

The Story about to unFold,  before Your Very Eyes,

to be held for Ever in Your Heart,  as the Terrible Beauty,

One whose beginning,  aRose,  as One has come to an end,

yet whose Story remained veiled in The Passages of Time,

for Two Thousand Years,

rising Ever so slowly to The Surface,

appearing as Phantoms,  as Butterflies,

dancing across The Ages and Pages,

of wellworn Tomes and Tales,

givenForth,  to mark

The Affairs,  and

Follies,  of Men,

as They searched,

high and low,  for The Meaning of Life,

as They searched The Heavens,  for The Truth,

when Their Truth had been lain asunder,

*   by Their Very Own Sword,  of   *

*              Blind Desire . . .         *

*                                                    *

*                                                    *

*                                                    *

*                                                    *

*                                                    *

*                                                    *

*                                                    *

*                                                    *

*                                                    *

*                                                    *

*                                                    *

*                                                    *

*                                                    *

*                                                    *

 

 

i

and so,  the long,  dark Kiss of Night,  had followed Him,

and It poured slowly down,  over The Kingdom of Avalon, 

over The Fields and Forests of What Might Have Been,  to

      The Mountains,  and The Majesty,  and The Music of Men . . .

and,  as They laid His Body,  behind This Mighty Stone,

Ever knew as He stood,  beneath The Heavens alone,

that He had come so Far,  to find All He had missed,

     and All They are Those,  that A Rose,  once kissed . . .

and this One Rose,  while Only Here,  for aWhile,

left His Mark,  for Eternity,  and,  for All,  a Smile,

for this one Smile He had searched The Stars

to be near,  was found upon The Face,  of All

      Things Dear . . .

so He fell to His Knees and began to pray, 

that He might Return,  to Always One Day,

and as A Rose,  ascended,  upon Angels’

Wings,  He smiled and He remembered, 

      of A Voyage,  of Kings . . .

 and of This Story,  laid before U,  Now, 

are All that remains,  of The Glory,  and how,

a Man,  once called Ever,  who Fate dared to roam, 

put His Words on These Pages,  in a Long Letter,  Home,

and as He remembered who He was,  and where He had been,

       He lit a Candle,  to tell The World,  yes,  He would find,  Love,  Again . . .

 

 

i

and He wrote,  and He wrote,  for the next Two Thousand Years,

through The Agony and The Ecstasy,  and The Sum of Our Fears,

and He wrote,  of Each Moment of Each Day of Our Past,  through

Each Chapter and Each Verse,  though They might be His Last, 

so Every Dream and Every Wish that Ever heard since Then,

could One Day fly away,  beyond These Follies,  of Men,

and,  All that remains,  of His Candle,  so bright,

are These Pages,  from The Ages,  of

      a Kingdom,  of Light . . .

 

 

 

and

so It began,

and Yes,  so It was,

under a Sky to remember,

      and in The Heart,  of Because . . .

They came from Hither,  and

They came from Yon,

and They came

from no Reason,

     so to witness,  The Dawn . . .

and All Eyes were there upon Him,

and Every Soul,  had come so Far to see,

what Tomorrow knew,  and kept from View,

      All that Yesterday,  had Ever promised,  to be . . .

while ‘Lo and Behold,  Their Tale,  to unfold,

gazed down upon this weary World of Men,

a Whisper was heard,  and this Whisper,

 was The Word,  and there began

the greatest Story,  that

      Ever,  told . . .

 

 

 

and far beyond The Reach

 

 

In The Arms,  of By and By

 (  The Circle,  is Unbroken,  Still  )

 

 

*

*

*

in

The

Morning

of Love,  Again,

and seen,  Living,  in

The Eyes of a Butterfly,

as told,  by an Iron Horse,

there came from The East,

a great and winged Flyer of

endless Velocity and Grace,

sailing low in The Sky,  aloft

in The Glory of The Sun,  Up 

in The Path of Her Spirit Wind,

moving as Liquid above The Sea,

having flown,  All The Days of Infinity,

having endured the long dark Kiss,  of Night,

the Fire Dove glides to rest upon The Rail of Sighs,

and,  She looks,  out across These Shores of Her Longing, 

remembering a Morning long Ago,  when an Ibis,  born Resolute,

began Her Voyage to Avalon,  bearing This Burden of Destiny’s Heart,

This Crown of Roses,  who Now lays Them,  Here,  at The Feet of Yesterday,

who smiles,  and gazes toward Hope,  who turns,  in Time,  to see A Wink,  dancing

in The Eye of So It Shall Be,  while There,  in The Distance,  rising Up through The Mist,

with a Terrible Beauty,  bound for  Moments Yet to Come,  and a Purpose known only to God,

laughing with The Moon,  goes Ever,

The Last ThunderBird,

     Home . . .

 

 

 

from Book I, The Diamond ( First Light ) The Ninth DoveTale – The Windmills of Eden

 

 

on The Mantle of Regard

 

 

BraveHeart

  

 

with Tears,  in His Eyes,  for He is crying Still,

yet with a Grace of Eden,  Her Knight of Hope

raises His Mighty Arm toward Paradise,  His

Brilliant Sword of Truth reflecting The Light

in His Eyes,  as He walks,  Ever closer,  to

where His Angel stands,  waiting,  upon

His Chariot of The Sun,  as He looks

into The Window of Her Eyes,  He

lays His Angel down,  At Last,

upon Avalon Again,  and as

He kisses Her so softly,

She dries The Tears

from His Eyes,

as She opens Her Heart,

and releases Her Love,  borne

on The Wings of Ten Thousand

Butterflies,  soaring through

The Gates,  of Dawn,

and once Again,

He whispers,

His Voice,

a Wonder

of Perfection,

as He regards His Legion of Pearls,  and

with a Wink of His Eye,  in The Time of a Promise,

His Sword begins to shimmer,  as if to crack The Sky,  while

      His Words wash over Them,  like Cool Water,  Look Homeward,  Angels . . .

 

 

from Book III,  The Diamond ( Third Beginning ) The Twelfth DoveTale – The Symphony of Moments

 

 

 

There, in The Path of Eagles

 

 

 

The Wind,  knows The Way

 (  Home  )

  

 

setting out on an August Morn,  upon a Path barely revealed amid the waist-high grasses,

walks a boy,  eyes bright with Promise,  and keeping a determined pace,   in hopes of

finding the source of the Voices,  before the Noonday Sun found him,  too far from

      the deep quiet shade of his yard,  now miles distant . . .

this,  his third attempt,  after brief and random excursions well within sight of Home, 

was to be his most daring,  for he had never ventured this far out onto The Downs alone

before,  and without a single Cloud to obscure an endlessly pale-blue Sky,  his loneliness

      had become All the more Complete . . .

high Above,  a chevron,  small and dark to his periodic gaze,  circling in long,  lazy arcs, 

flew an eagle,  there since Daybreak when his Voyage began . . . He longed for just a

Moment,  to share It’s Domain,  to see with It’s Eyes,  to know,  All that lay beyond

      his earthbound View . . .

the last Trace of a Morning’s Dew left It’s Mark upon his passage,  leaving cool and

silvery Trails upon his skin,  reminding him,  of his thirst . . . yet,  before his Thoughts

became a Wish,  he heard The Sound of The Stream,  running Somewhere,  up beyond

       a Rise . . .

as he slowly gave himself,  to The Height of Wonder,  The Splendor fell Away below him

to a wide and verdant Plain,  a Valley,  in The Sun . . . and there,  standing for All to see,

standing along The Shores of The Stream,  standing in The Light,  of All Things Dear,

were The Lilies,  with Hearts as One,  singing,  with Voices as bright as The Dawn,

and with the palms of his hands,  he dries the Tears from his eyes and beholds

The Sight of Ten Thousand Angels,  heralding The Return of Love Again, 

welcoming him to Avalon,  bathing him in Awareness,  that Each

      and Every One,  knows he bears The Name,  of Hope . . .

 

 

from Book I,  The Ring ( First Light ) The Ninth DoveTale – The Windmills of Eden