♫ 16/320 — "It is very good to hear that your imaginations are open to the unimaginable."

♫ 16/320 —


"It is very good to hear that your imaginations are open to the unimaginable."

These were the words of a new voice which emerged from our midst. I quickly realized that they were spoken by the American Goldfinch which had just arrived amongst us.

"Welcome friend." I replied.

"What brings you here?" my associates inquired.

The bird looked down at the diamond tabletop upon which it paced, which served as its stage temporarily. Then he spoke: "I wish I could respond in elaborate detail; however, I have only part of my memories in tact at the moment. Yet, I know I am here to request guidance from you, and your associates."

The outstretched wing of the American Goldfinch gestured towards a direction west of our then current position. Its focused feather seemed almost more like a pointing finger, than a feather, as it squinted one eye and said: "It is . . . there, to which I must attend. Will you assist me? Can you help me get from here to there—in time?"

♫ 14/320 — Often, after one gives oneself space to receive, there comes an opportunity to give.

♫ 14/320 —

Often, after one gives oneself space to receive, there comes an opportunity to give. The arriving opportunities after such space are free of burdensome feelings and instead present themselves as gilded marking instruments might appear to the desiring hands of an inspired writer, illustrator or composer.

As all of us—certainly including our friends—the caribou, encircled the central diamond. Shadows began to flicker upon its table like surface. The immense form of the shadow suggested for a moment that perhaps the source which cast it was of tremendous volume. However, as the flickering shadow shrank, so did the imagined immensity of that which cast its diamond darkening silhouette. To our surprise, it was a small bird descending through the open top orifice in the high center of the mountain enclosing us. It was of a type which seemed geographically out of place. Our artistic interest in ornithological studies had given us a bit of knowledge on various feathered forms. Our surprise visitor was undoubtedly an American Goldfinch, who was beautifully out of place in lands so far Northeasterly from America as this estate bound, limitless mountain was.

The Fair Horned Caribou March in Allegiance. Lyrics, libretto, a poem.

The Fair Horned Caribou March in Allegiance
©2012 Marcus James Christian, marcusunlimited.

The fair horned caribou march in allegiance.
With a direction of purpose they ascend towards the Northeast.
They send friendly nods our way.

Somehow, from their herbivorian chatter,
we ascertain an invitation:

 "To the caverns, to the caves!" 

say the caribou.

Are there caves and caverns on this, our recently acquired estate?
Its grounds are grand, for certain, yet ... caves, caverns?

Overlooking the caribou - from a raised set of small hills, we tag along.
The caribou have made us adopted members of their exodus,
to the caves, to the caverns.

From several angles the entrances cannot be seen.
Yet,  the caribou know - and with them, we go:

Into a chamber within the great stone,
its innards shine of sparkling blue light.
For it is rich with gems and cataracts of pure, fresh, water.

{pura aqua dulci}