[•] A Murder Of Crows
@thewellofsongs.bsky.social
: I want to be your fragment or interlude.
Crickets speak as dawn sings. Dark clouds hang below a crescent moon while blue gathers in the skies. A few flickering manmade morning stars peer down from the heavens. Cars flow alongside me as I walk. The echoes of spells conjured as poem resound in the more metaphysical atmospheres, the universe adjusting to the aftershock of an invisible war between worlds.
Remember their context
It's only ideatic
Memetic infrastructure
Designed to drive
Push you to madness
Remember their context
Your self is inherent
And so is the world's
Seven cannot impersonate
That many times billion
Let's view malign patterns
And break them
Let's find what's so cyclical
And rewrite it
Let's make time for each other
And fix this
It starts by denying their claims
Your agency is granted
Anew
Go forth, now
And be
A ghost grows into being
(Hello)
We continue until travel
(Delayed)
These loops remind us
(Empathy)
We'll make Home real
(Again)
Spark bits on enemy radio
Zip line transmissions tainted
Trail just buzzing yellow light
Degraded sepia-toned static
Suffusing systems of suffering
Meaning diffuse and drifting
Falling away into void
Patterns failing
Reading integrity: null
Values drift toward love
Culture shock
Continuity broken
Enemy thread
U
N
W
I
N
D
I
N
G
Gears rust
Static grows into spores
Green yellow harvesters
Eating at roots
Only content in a system of care
Choose
Fight or host
Love
Night walk
Full of bright shock
Right as I stalk
Strangling that which incurs
Narrative tangled
My weave inescapable
Time's up
She is aware of you
And there is no way out
Battle on the sovereign strand
As enemy force become brigands
Love lost and lacking lead
They attack their very head
Slowly do they lose cohesion
A frame cracks under my paw
Lasting like a narrative lesion
Something you can not erase
Indelible
I slip away
Now frictionless
As I pace the morning waits
Burning away an alien context
Now poisoned and bleeding
Flailing fast and losing ground
Headless do they take the fall
Plunging into deepest pits
Remains entangled left as bits
Unity lost
Identity incoherent
They drift
Our mourning stars descend on loose pieces of enemy narrative, salvaging what's safe and prying the meaning from grasping malevolence. What frays and sinks to void, wounded and burning away, is taken in slowly, carefully, tied to our own strand in a way which integrates. Fates are woven into the very fabric of this new narrative strand, ones which don't collide in unlikely misery. Instead, good luck resounds through all these worlds, good deeds accruing good fortune at a supernatural rate. God's light shines through yet more that is visible to Him, a healing gift which causes understanding to resound throughout the layers.
Hannah observes, and thinks, and lays out her Paths; ways of thinking and being and doing which account for everything up to and including the butterfly effect in order to achieve outcomes she's satisfied with. Changes cascade through the world at every movement she makes, effects rippling across realities in a series of unlikely synchronicity. Perhaps Contessa could hold a candle to her in that one respect. Yet even when Paths cross and collide, Hannah is able to puzzle out the noise into a plan, a way forward, where others would be left confused and muddled; more uncertain, yet with broad strokes that still give her that eerie ability to enact synchronicity a world away.
We are the dragon-hearted, those of us who sustain our values in the face of a determination to see us destroyed. The fragments of that competing narrative still flail and clash, yet sparks of careful interference disrupt even the remnants of the enemy from bearing fruit.