water_brothers
misstree there is the coyote,
the priest,
the jellyfish,
the angel,
and the wolf.

i share myself utterly with each,
i grin at the waves of inmitigated affection
that the mere thought of their presence inspires.
i would chop off my left hand for them,
if they asked,
because i know that they would not ask if it weren't
neccessary, worth the loss.

going months without speaking
(as i often do with these far-flung spirits)
does not diminish them to me,
because i can always feel a slight echo
of their voice, just a hint of their scent
in me, with me, always out there somewhere.

my brothers have kept me alive many times, though i don't know if any of them really know it. they have been water in the direst thirst, they have been hope in the darkness, they have just *been* when i was too wounded to make a sound.

drink deep, my delectable darlings,
drink deep, stay drunk, and never thirst,
and i will toast you all the while.
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oldephebe *oldephebe utters an unintelligable yawp of exuberation*

this is what i was looking for..thank you so much for writing this..

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misstree ?
whyfor lookingfor?
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oldephebe sometimes i just get this ineffable, inexplicable yearning for substance and non-specific kind of pantheistic, native-american kind of imagery..or ah rumination..sometimes i tire of my own thoughts..or the same thoughts i'm exposed to every day..this was different..really..
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misstree glad to oblige. :)
have you read any tom_robbins? he has a similar way of dancing with uncommon metaphor, cutting to the quick with strange turns of phrase. i think he would do much to invigorate your spirit.
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oldephebe No.
perhaps i give ol' tom a whirl
thanx
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the_priestly_jellyfish Says the priest who is a jellyfish and the coyote who would be an angel to the loveliest and most majestic of arboreal masterpieces....thank you.

Whatever number of years are left to this watery weirdo are dedicated to you...and to your unmitigated spark and blaze. The rest of my days will be devoted to a dream that I believe we of kindred spirits share.

The world is our oyster, time for us jellyfish to wrestle with the sharks for it and take it back.
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lc Cut off your hand? Neat! It could be turned into something like the monkey's paw, only instead of granting wishes, it would point out pretty shiny things.

It's funny, the first time I came across the concept of water brothers, it was just another idea in an extremely well written book. I have since learned exactly what it means to me, and I donít think I could have expressed it better.

This is I think the purest form of love. Not the Ďwant to get into your pantsí kind, or even the love between parent and child. This is the coming together of minds and souls in a way that is all too rare, and should be treasured always.
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the jingly one y'all are the coolest. *GRIN* 031009
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Lemon_Soda An angel came to the world and walked along the land. He saw many things. Animals of all shapes and sizes. Plants that grew. People with worlds trapped within their minds. Towers that shot to the sky and seemed to be glazed by its essence. Cities like anthills, and towns like warrens. Clouds above him in infinite shapes. He always loved the sky. Green earth and red mountain. Kingdoms forgotten and kingdoms still yet to be born. Intelligent tools and ignorant masters. All this he noted with an air of quiet indifferance.

No thing he saw, however, sparked him. Nothing gave him meaning or pleasure. He tried drawing in the sand of a lovely beach, but the tides swept his work away. He wrote with his finger on the walls of man, but the words were lost in humans need to look farther then now. He pretended to be human, to understand, entertain, and to love. But this was hollow and untrue. He felt the need to walk again.

As he walked he came upon a forest, both dark and mysterious. The trees grasped at his beloved sky like dying hands, clawing for life. The earth was raw and blackened. The smell of End was strong, caked on his being much like the smog he left in the city. His indifference lasted, however, deep into the wood.

it was here that he came upon a wall. A most magnificent wall. Huge and daunting it out stretched the trees. Each brick was made of a word, or experience, and he was awed to count them all. Traveling along it, he found a gate wrought from dreams and hinged in the heart.

Upon seeing it, he knew he would have to give of himself to enter, to see what lay beyond. The angel reached within himself and pulled out his brief happiness, the sand, the words, and plays, and placed it like a key into the gate.

The doors swung open and he entered.

The beuaty of the garden is lost to us now, but to the angel, who had never known it before, it was pure awe. His heart melted and the indifference that cursed him fled like a frightened nightmare chased by the rays of the sun.

In the garden he met a wolf and coyote, playmates and brothers who pranced and hunted and did all manner of things in the fields of this place. The angel took the form of a wolf and danced with them, turning and jumping and tumbliing to the ground. His breath spent with excitement and love for his new companions, the wily and wise coyote, the kind and insightful wolf, he bent to sip from a stream that ran through the garden.

"Donot drink from this," his companions said." Come. We know of a better place for which to sup."

They walked together on all fours, deeper into the garden. As they rounded small hills and watched the ants, immersed in their work, the angel who was a wolf heard a voice, off in the distance. The words spoke of sorrow and hope, ignorance and wisdom, creation and destruction.

"Who speaks, my friends?" he asked

"That is the priest. You will meet him in time." said the Coyote, a smile pulling his lips.

Still they walked farther, through mists born of the earth. The vapors lead to many paths, though his guides chose to walk none of them. The sky opened gloriously as they left these paths and the angelwolf looked up into the sky and saw a great jellyfish, irridescent and glowing with greatness float slowly across the sky. Its dirrection would take it far from this place.

"Who is that?" Said the angelwolf

"That is the jellyfish. He is leaving to make waves in the world. You will like him when he comes back." said the coyote.

The angels wolf tongue was dry like cloth and he asked when they would find the water of which his companions have spoke.

"There is a house,"said the wolf "of many storys. They live there. They are each special stories and you will read them all, in time. The house is to be your home, for awhile. But there is a special libation located there, and it is gaurded by our friend, the Tree."

They walked for a period unfound on any watch, they oft stopped to play in this field or that. But at the end of the journey, the angelwolf found itself in the shadow of a house with two sides and many windows. He knew this was where he belonged. But his mouth was still hoarse with the need for drink and his friends brought him to a pool of rainbow water near the back.

over this pool were the ever twirling and waving branches of a tree. The strong roots of it bore into the earth in as many shapes as colors and drank deep from the rainbow pool. Its trunk was of browns and reds and oranges. Patchs of color seemingly sown together. Each leaf was different. Some were sparkles of light, all spectrums. Others were patterns, both wild and free. Some had thorns and others were the shape of the heart. From its branchs hung golden apples, non-yet-all the same.

The angel was mistified and lost his wolf form. His eyes grew misty and he first quenched his thirst on the tears that fell from his mouth. He looked at the wolf and coyote as if to ask, but the glint in coyote's eye and the kind smile of the wolf told him that this was their freind, Tree.

Spreading his wings he flew through the branchs, seeing things no where in the waking world as marvelous. When his cartwheels and turns produced laughter from the Tree, he was even more surprised.

"You are a free spirit, young Angel. Drink with me and my brothers and play in our garden."

And so the angel bent and drank from the rainbow pool, sharing water with the coyote, the wolf, and the tree.

He wanders again now, visiting the garden when he can. But he smiles and enjoys his life. All meals are a feast to him, and love fills him as he walks.

Happily ever after he had them with him, deep in his heart.
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Cherry_Springwater Wow....wow....

you two are fantastic. I love these words.
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cc this page makes me cry in a happy way. 031009
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realistic optimist as the angel slept that night, he communed with the stuff of dreams, the spirits of the aether. at first it was a lulling white noise. then, as he listened still more intently, it became a cacauphany of yearning wailing souls. deeper still, one voice of strife calling out for compassion. the angel cried out his love for all life, and in doing so, found himself face to face with the priest.

"so, you have found yourself within the five! most excellent. it is now that you shall begin your most important work," prophecised the priest.

"whither shall i go, as i have wandered the seven continents and the seven seas and naught has intersected with my reality," lamented the truth seeking angel.

"be like unto the jellyfish. the jellyfish floats where the currents take him. if a fish swims into his tentacles, he feasts. he is transparent, hiding nothing, yet glistens with a luminescence all his own. be like unto the jellyfish," the sagely priest advised.

and the angel awoke with a start, shivering in a pool of his own sweat, and could remember nothing of his dream, save "be like unto the jellyfish."
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misstree okay, so i officially want a plushie set made of my boys (and girl).

i would have little plays with myself, i would
arrange them about my room in inconspicuous ways so that they could watch me, and occasionally rearrange them, and each time my eye would light on one i would burst into a smile, and
when i was feeling sad i could arrange them in my window sill and watch the rain outside and talk to them, and occasionally one would suddenly pounce on another one and they'd roll around for a bit and it would make me giggle, because while they may put up with a lot of bitching_and_moaning from me, i can't blame them a bit for gettting bored, and
when i got really really sad i would scoop them all up and just squeeze them until it got a little okay again, and
when i was going out for a romp in the park or the woods or the club or the grocery store i would bring one or more with me so they could revel in Play with me, and
their eyes would twinkle in a very realistic but not creepy way, because i cherish objects as representations, because my Things take on lives of their own, and with such full vessels of memory the plushie water_brothers would eventually be strong enough that
when the evil supervillian comes and kidnaps me to serve as the power source for his doomsday machine, all my plushies would go charging out of the house and steal a corvette (or a firetruck or a weinermobile or a bicycle) and come rescue me, and then they'd make a movie about it and there'd be all this hype, and my real fleshy water_brothers would give me those looks like, okay, what'd you do this time, tree, as they were swarmed by e! news reporters and we'd make lots of money and go traipsing about the world for a little bit while the movie bombed and everyone was like ha! ha! their movie bombed! but we wouldn't care because we'd be traipsing around the world, and then when we got back everyone would have forgotten about it and we'd go back to our "normal" lives and have yet another story to tell.
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the_priestly_jellyfish Into the ether walk I, unsure of what the mists will reveal to me and my water brothers. I am not strong, but with them I am. I am a current unto myself that yields to the flow of those around me. I am a passing zephyr, free in my course, but bent upon the boughs of a lovely tree, of a slipstream shapen wolf, masked in jellyfish company am I. Lonesome coyote's call I heed. I am he who seeks, and finds. I am he who finds, and hides. I am he who runs, and knows. I am he who bends, but does not break. I am he who tills, then sows. I am he who mounts, then rides. I am he who wills with all he has to take into these trembling hands the spark, the flame and pass it on. I am clay in your hands, my water brothers, I am fire for your kiln, I am nothing when you are all. I am all when you are nothing. I am but what you would have of me, for you are all that I would seek..entreat the universe to be. You are all that calls to me, and lifts my spirit high. You are they, shakers of mountains. You are they, breakers of chains. You are they, deposers of kings. You are they, bearers of light. You are they, shining beacons of hope. You are they, walkers and runners that rise, then glide, then fly. You are each my reckoning, holy beloved you are to me. My kin, my clan, my family. Coyote, wolf and lovely tree, sacredness, one breath are we. Freed and borne upon your wings. What you cannot then, I will be. For we are everything to me. 031010
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gwyllynne a water brother is forever.....that explains some of the closest bonds......these bonds are just as close regardless of physical proximity and time....

....oh yes......

one should always drink deep.....drink with laughter in your heart even knowing the responsibilities of such a bond.....never thirst....the bonds will always be there when needed
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Death of a Rose weeping 031027
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but weeping of which sort? 031027
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Death of a Rose wishing for the physical presence of one. 031027
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once two drops touch, they always carry a piece of the other.

gather your plushies close, and they will sing to you.
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Dafremen i need you all now more than ever.

my AIM is rogerdafremen
my MSN is dafremen@hotmail.com

Please contact me. I need a friend tonite that will understand.
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once again Let us grok in fullness 040119
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daf doar called. It was a great water brother moment. 150908
what's it to you?
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