The Keeper's Dream
Wild darkness grows tame lightning
blue light from wrinkled hands;
St Elmo's fire, stormscream, water
pushed into a weapon,
my mates in this dark place.
From the dead sailor's dream I know
your cry, snaking
up the spiral spine of things,
to warn the time is here
when even fishes will need wings.
For Kerry's Art FLASH 55 at real toads
A quick and dirty 55--forgive if my tools are still a bit rusty--with thanks to Kerry for all the glories, past and present, of The Imaginary Garden, and to the G-Man for the form which never fails.
Images: Pharos and Pacifico Oracle cards, © Kerry O'Connor