by Jane Eliza

Created on: October 31, 2008

The West Wind.

"Behold !
You stand before the Oracle of Zephyrus.
Do not enter lightly here !
The God of the West Wind
does not commiserate
with your despondency.
Renounce your proclivity towards
synthetic introspections,
for truth and clear vision
are demanded of all who would
seek guidance from this cave."

I bow my head, vexed
by the brevity of this formidable
message. It was not what I came
here for, not what I expected.
Unquestioned yet, the Oracle sees
the answer. The dark of the moon
covers my Shadow as I curl
into it, hiding from this Knowing.

The preDawn light creeps
silently over me, the drifting breeze
carries the freshness
of the lavender flowers growing
outside my western window.
Barely awake,
the Dreaming still flutters
around my heart and
stirs my soul from lethagy.
The moider imparted by
my new moon visitation
begins to resolve itself
in my mind
and I hear that cutting phrase
"synthetic introspections"
and feel it tear asunder
all the tenacious gumption
of my ego. I transcend
the barriers which held me
captive
and allow this nascent awareness
to whisper through my soul,
as gentle as the zephyr
that wafts easily into
my morning room.

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