Dream Scribe

The Immortal Star.

From his cascade
of thick, dark, curls ~
To his sun~bronzed feet,
He danced.
Alone ~
under the blinding light
Of a yellow Summer moon.

Eerie silence
amplified the music
that played on in his heart.
The drum and bass beat
flexed a rhythm
through his thighs and calves,
As he hopped,
skipped and
kicked
the soft earth to pieces.

Thin rivulets shone on
his smiling face
And freedom emanated
from his work~hammered
countenance.

The Great Spirit of Life
Stretched its powerful,
Loving arm down from Heaven
And grasped the solitary
dancing manchild in
An eternal embrace.
Lifting him off the ground,
The Great Spirit threw him
High into the night sky.
He bounced off the moon
and became a glorified
Immortal Star.

🍂

(Inspired by Maori legend telling.
And the Maori legend about a cabbage tree and a man~boy.)

And no, I'm not of Maori descent, I'm South American.)

To Jamain, with love...just love, finally.
The most brilliant special branch agent in history. Even though I don't particularly like you Jamain, I do love you. And no, special branch agents are NOT police officers but some do originate from police backgrounds. My mistake. Live and learn....I'm still not speaking to you though.