there, on The IcanSea

 

 

East,  Her

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

as a Deep and EverLasting Hush began to blanket The Universe,

and Silence,  slowly turned to face The Crimson Sky, 

There,  between The Sand and The Foam,

There,  between The Reason,

and The Look in

The Eye of Because,

There,  in The Space,

between Hope and

FullFillMeant,

      came The Dawn . . .

as She rises,  a Golden Wind,

moving,  as Liquid,  through The Very Hearts

of Men,  dancing as One among The Women

of Her Soul,  shining Her Light

upon The Smiles,  of

All Things Dear,

     came The Dawn . . .

as Each,  of The Three

White Dolphins,  pulling Now,  with

All of Their Might,  a Thread so Fine and Silver,

lay Their Eyes,  upon The gListening Shores of Avalon,

     while The Trumpets blow,  so soft and slow,  came The Dawn . . .

and just as The Roar of The Wings of 10,000 Butterflies begin to fade toward The Arms of Remember,

 and The Angel of Forgiveness steps down from Her Chariot of Light,  pouring HerSelf over The Garden,

and,  while The Laughter of Children

rose Up,  to kiss The Break of Dei,

      came The Dawn,  of Love,  Again . . .

 

 

 

from Book III,  The Diamond ( Third Beginning ) The Fourth DoveTale – The Secret of Prisms

 

 

 

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 . . .

 

 

 

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 

 

 

The Chalice, of Hope

 

 

To Light,  and Life

 (  There,  from Here  )

  

 

walking along The River of Souls,  He shares The Path,  with Patience,

and before The Last Feather of Dawn breaks Free of The Fall of Night,

as Come What May,  smiles,  knowingly,  to So It Might,  He turns to

face The Eyes of Heaven,  His Legion of Stars,  as They pause,

One More Time,  to Witness,  and as Always,  to Wonder, 

of The Glory,  within Them,  and Each,  bowing

Their Head,  in The Presence of Truth,

Each,  laying Their Sword,  at

The Feet of Grace,  when,

at Last,  He whispers,

You,  My Guardians,

Children of The Sun,

Your Journey,  began

in The Thoughts of God,

so There It will come to Rest,

bless This Earth with Love,  Again,

      Always,  for You,  I will Promise,  Their Best . . .

Here,  at Last,  Night is Past,  as Hearts,  begin to mend,

     and Ever,  He turns,  to face The Day,  still walking,  around The Bend . . .

 

 

 

from Book II,  The Sword ( Second Sound ) The First DoveTale – The Fires of Ice