The Return of the Traveler King On the eastern shore, a silver-cloaked figure walked to the beat of chilled spray and squawks of puffins. The locals, creeping from their warm beds as dawn poked through autumn clouds, mistook him for a ghost dressed in grey, haunting the red sand shores. He seemed more mist than …
The Sky is Our Chariot: A Mythical Poem for the Sky Walkers of the World Tree
They came from the sky our chariots of clouds Thunder rolling under the wheels, eagles swerving at the fore. They came in the silver light of the moon rose high and round, playing peek with the dark. On the ground heads turned up, starlight eyes desire. Hands twitching, grasping at their sides. Desperate wishes to …