the king chose the storyteller to accompany him on the road to death. he didn’t choose a close friend or a spouse or a family member to accompany him. he chose a storyteller. — the stars hold our stories.
there’s something inside me that tells me where i’ve been. that whispers to me sweet and sharply about edges of swords and blood drops in the snow and fantastic enchantments and the darkest corners of the darkest wood. of curling smoke and flickering flame and warm breath transfixed by the shadows on cavern walls– on the things we did to survive the night and pass through the winter. the old bones of deep stories twitching, shifting– back to life. myth is like the shapeshifter– the coyote, the owl, and the wind in the trees. the sound that seizes your throat underneath your lover or catching the eyes of a creature you do not yet know how to name. i long– as i always have– in life after life– for the many-colored cloak of fine spun, wrought and ragged, elegantly wild and spiritually sentient– story. story i feel swirling in my ribcage, between the good earth and my dirty feet-soles. the place where this world and the other worlds meet– that’s where you’ll find me. that’s where you’ve always been able to find me. that breath on the back of your neck, warm-blooded hand tousling your hair when you’re standing alone. the chimes of the fae and the swiftness of our forgetting– i am betwixt and between– that. pressing out my arms. folding open my shoulderblades. no book in hand, only eyes on the fire, eyes gaily waltzing with the darkness. to hear this voice is to hear all others within and behind it. calling in the bards, the messengers, the prophetesses from their desert caves and temple halls.. here our hearts pour libation, lay smoking offering of our love, our laughter, our memories and our intentions. something else has led me here and in service to the highest i am in service to you. we never walk alone– and in these mythic spaces we can get the closest we can– to them. so they say– “i am not i. i am this one walking beside me whom i do not see.”
* final quote by juan ramón jiménez
hear this read on the writing remix podcast @ 38:18