There is an informal slip-slide escalation in curving paths shifting from horizontal to a moderate acclivitous ascent. About ‘these parts’ are levels and soft hills then abrupt driveways and mountains. The foothills originate beyond the driveways and rise to forty-nine hundred feet o’er the conurbation named Windsweep. We happen twelve miles away in a town called Creeshrugs. We are governed by traditional rhythms; intricately and spiritually fused with the natural world. And! The lights dim as the shadow dance begins.
Signals are distorted, sibilant, and overly compressed.
Sing-Song sounds as specters sway ‘round twilight flames adrift in a far-off time. We start with the stars and concurrently we vanish into the mist. With gentle voice in silent rooms with stemma stroked throats and emptied tombs. Passages move toward skylight’s screams while choosing sights of sinking dreams. Warming suns of days ago. Salted mist and taste of tongue within lights of passion and times of rain. Wolf cries of sands and home. Across this universal stretch window shines in candle’s light. And let us touch another piece of safety sleep and lover’s reach.
A well-stocked mind—is never bored—donchaknow?
‘Refusing to acknowledge an active force in things and instead “simply to absorb this force into a command of God’s – a command given just once in the past, having no effect on things and leaving no traces of itself in them is so far from making the matter easier to grasp that it is more like abandoning the role of the philosopher altogether and cutting the Gordian knot with a sword’– by Gottfried Leibniz—from ‘On Nature Itself’…
We climb and defy the Mountains of ‘Overworld.’ No demons depraved. And! No rhythm or rhyme nor times’ that happen when forgotten or acceptance is abandoned or uncovered via sets of eyes right-sighted, united, divided and shared ‘cross finale starts. As inceptions finish single races and commence in other times; additional competitions, wind-curve-win or lose or race-place again and all over again, ad infinitum…
We start with the stars and concurrently we vanish into the mist.
We sustain soul-touched shivers. Beneath drops and beyond opaque places, animation is born and form from kindle or care or wash or wear and never far away from strikes and sparkle. Coven Isles removed from ‘Martian’ Beach lives, and once recognized by diamond eyes, now dry of surface rain, though still alive and seen through other selves in other times and in other places. ‘Tis driest in desert winds away from dark sights and silent nights. Sleepless slights and magic lights ‘cross crater crash and runners’ dash into caves where life is born where cycles form and disappear into light-slight and fright.
When in love distance from the ‘Entity of one’s ‘Love’ is just formality. A spirit being “in-love’ takes no notice of Space, of Distance and of Time. And! Love is forever—donchaknow?
The tertiary processes comments that end in a sibilant or near-sibilant, and the last picks up everything else. Indicators are distorted, sibilant, and overly compressed. ‘Sibilants are louder than their non-sibilant counterparts, and most of their acoustic energy occurs at higher frequencies than non-sibilant fricatives.’ Sibilance is a manner of the articulation of fricative and affricate consonants, made by directing a stream of air with the tongue towards the sharp edge of the teeth, which are held close together; a consonant that uses sibilance may be called a sibilant, or strident.”
And! Beautiful you are…