Metamorphoses
Ich komme, ich komme, grünende Brüder…“I am coming, I am coming,” I sing, as my soft arms extend heavenwards – curling, flexing, fashioning out of my imagination leaves, vines, boughs of ash and laurel – as I embrace the gift of mother-goddess to water-nymph. Below me, strings churn and gambol, myriad-divided, like the viridescent light which shines dappled through my branches. Sinewy lines of unseen woodwind twist and twine upwards. “I am coming, my verdant brothers. Sweetly rises in me the...
Fantasy & Sci-Fi