Pythian Games

My Identity

First Attempt

I am from the leather hand-tooled of the shoe’s sole hand-crafted from the artesian cattle high up along the precipes of the Alps and from the palm of a good man’s hand.

I am from the wide river deltas dripping fertile mud and debris as waters overflow their borders in order to renew our land, our crops for the coming growing seasons.

I am the seed on the head of a stalk of wheat planted too early and too deep, yet still determined to push and to shove my way forward towards growth, towards rebirth.

I am from the Ancient Ones and from the Outer Limes, from beyond All Space and beyond All Time, from Bella Luna, from Mme. Soleil, and from bluest Father Sky.

I am from the nest burrowed deep within the earth, all lined with grass and love and fur, with all my children and my treasures surrounding me and from one cave to another beneath the moonlight only do we dare to tread.

From the death of the black hearted spider and the house burning down to the ground,

I am from the ashes, the shattered remains.  Where once stood the house, now lay broken window panes, tattered electric bits and tethered wires stripped of their purposes.  There stand I, like the Phoenix, like his eye, bourn from damage and pain, pulling myself along til I too can die.

I am from the Olde Country, fed up on cabbage and potato, taught to love the Sun, to shame the Devil, taught never to run, nor laugh out loud, never to have any fun.

From the frail endings beginning at the slice of the guillotine, the sinking of ships, the merciless Burnings, to the Wise who turned and walked away, abandoning the dregs of Humanity and the Flood that came to purify us all.

I am from Nowhere.  I am from Nothing.  Here I am.  But I am not.  Not alive.  Not dead.  Unwilling.  Unable.  Uncomprehending.  I have no beginning, no ending.  The never was.  The never will be.  But I never ever give up or stand down.

written by hand by Raven TK

http://ravensinthewritingdesk.wordpress.com/