All Roads …

All paths lead to the Black Stage;

The one that hangs beneath the

Impossibly huge,

Lightning cracked

Longhorn bull skull.

But as the peaceful sun

Settles down to rest

In the hills beyond

The gathered tribes

I take a breath, a stance:

Feet below my shoulders.

From that point

Everybody knows;

This is my stage,

My tune, my song.

The notes as diamond-bit

Sharp as always.

“There once was a woman …”

Once ?

We look at each other

And the smiles are

Wider than ever …

Because this time around

We all understand

That the joke  –

If joke it be –

Is on those of us:

The light and the dark,

Children of smoke and water

Who are here in this moment.

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