DARK CRYSTALS / SOFT CROWNS
The myth / the legend / the story I choose to believe is that / long ago / when all the time was night / the nomads / the never-heres / the nappy headed numinous northerners of my kin / who had long nurtured urgent cotton turbans / studied paths the wind cut through the empty desert / watched it step off the foot of the world / swim the ocean-coloured sky / to nest among the quietest of stars / a breathing thing at the boundaries of darkness / The nomads of my kin thought the wind then a beautiful crystal / and prayed so intensely for its return / the wind shattered / into seeds / into roots they stewed their cotton turbans in / Like this they sucked darkness from the skies and stored its indigo wisdoms in the folds of their soft crowns / and passed on the myth / the legend / the story I choose to believe