Jeffery St. Rose (Wizard Azanon)

Luminaries

There are those who animate the lakes.

And give the stones their frequencies,

the stars their names,

each leaf its own word.

They ride on the flights of thought,

wonderers of love,

companions to the existence of water.

Deities of clock-birthing,

when Time, from womb, galloped,

to set its twelve graves in a sphere.

Oilers of lamps,

weavers of grassblades.

Botanists who love all the tribes of roses.

Kings of bees,

blisskeepers,

narrators of the golden rivers

tousled beneath the mountain.

Lutemakers,

smithies of forests,

engineers of the white dove.

Clothiers striding in gossamer,

shaping clear wells in the land.

Bookbringers,

languages loved into tongues.

Painters of paradises.

Singers of the dim glade

where Hell is rumoured to ruin.

The labourers behind the mist,

daylayers, creators to the moon,

inventors of the faces of universes,

luminaries brought into their own tales with a touch.          

© J. William Miller 2005