The wee folk are calling me home
I spoke a terrible thing
In the place they know best
The inner halls between my ears
The world has chewed off
Their pointiness
They knew my light
Was flickering
The wee folk are calling me home
They feel the silver thread Worn thin
The golden flame
Softly barely blue
Not anger do they feel
But fear for
loss of their Child,
their own…
Let her not die
They feel the silver thread Worn thin
Remember better times and joy rejoice
Fairy tales
Grimm and Rackham
William Butler Yeats
Imaginary friends
Offerings and miracles
Leaves and peppermint
The Invisible made visible
Remember better times and joy rejoice
Come back, breathe in Arcadian Air
Phoenix will rise from the ashes
Fly back home
Sister Liannan
In you runs Danan
The spirit of which can
Never really die
Just fade away
Come back, breathe in Arcadian Air
Fight the banality
Fight sister moon
Live that we might live
You are Phoenix
Rise from the ashes