Many have I met- to wander or to love or to kill- but in the full display of yr goodness, are you finally one who could see mine, hold my gnarled hands to the flame of yr own radiance?
Search well for yr gods: you are no stranger to disappointment; she rests her head on yr shoulder, you feed her from yr own hand.
We all of us breathe & bloom & wilt & blow away (this is assured): but when I am breath-petal-dust, will I ugly stain the earth beneath me, or will my salt be light enough to float up to my home?
Lout-prince, boy-warrior, god-home; you float on the surface of yr own monstrous depth & you fear what may pull you under, not knowing you are already its master: you are dragon & rider. Will you rise to yr occasion, sweet one?
When yr roots ache for earth, do not shake. It is not stars which nourish you, nor cold. Bed down in warm leaf and soil; reap-and-sow; feel the sun on yr fur.
Would you trade yr power for yr own transcendence? Or would such a thing drive you madder still, further&further back into yr deep dark? Be still; listen; mortal heartbeats still echo in yr coveted void.
When I was only an owlet, some travelers chased my family from our nest in the woods.
Me, my mother, and my three brothers all fled into the darkness.
I like to ride on Yitzbin’s back and in her antlers sometimes when she doesn’t notice.
Fortunately the attackers only had two stones so I was the only one to get away.
I was always told that when you capture any insects in a box or a jar you need to poke holes in it so they can breathe.
First-from-the-Quiver "Quiver"
The mayor of my old village used to tell us that his cat would stare at the walls inside his home.
Sometimes I’ll fall asleep up there and have to wash the crust from my eyes after I wake up.
First-from-the-Quiver "Quiver"
And because of that all cats could see ghosts and detect the supernatural.
When it squirms against the water and retreats back into my tear ducts it can be really annoying.
Poor Prism said she was so nervous to perform on stage the other day that she was getting butterflies in her stomach.
First-from-the-Quiver "Quiver"
But if that’s true how come I can sneak up on Quiver so easily?
Good thing I found this sharp stick. I’ll help her while she’s sleeping before the next show.
She has them all fooled. Well, bravo! Quite the performance as the innocent in distress. When they pluck the thorn from your paw, a beast must still bite, no?
First-from-the-Quiver "Quiver"
This one has the keenest eyes of us all. Surely he can see I was the prey being hunted… he must have seen the face of my fear for what she truly is...
