FOR BTS

FIX YOU II

 

Do not emerge, child of half-moons

and twilight,

from your home of white mirabilis

and winter where a peeping

light hears your sighs and whispers

shrinking violets into your eyes.

 

I will distil cascades’ music and larks’

trilling into silver grey

to pour into your half-empty cup.

 

You peer into life, un-appearing from

its verge at the siren call

of the bird of myriad songs that holds

sway in the muted ardour

of retreating day.

 

I will frame Polaris in a nocturne and

weave you a blue of shadows

and forget-me-nots as you fade into

the serenity of the sky.

 

Shall we sit by your frozen waterway,

as you seek questions in the realm

that lives beyond the mind?

 

Could I invoke a summer of tear-filled

clouds and a crescent pearl,

make you a ray in the shape of your

loneliness set with the heartbeat

of your dream for an amulet?

 

Could I overlay a radiant morning that

will not know your bloom with your

favoured colours of un-being?

 

I will balance with you on the brink you

sought till your soul sprouts

a flame and raises it to the stars.

 

We shall name our blessings and count

the numbers of candytufts as

we walk into spring.

 

© 2021 Lilium Candidum

Lily’s Verse

Thank you, ARMYs' seven Angels, for restoring me to myself, for giving me the affirmation I needed but didn't know I sought, for giving me permission to cry and embark on my journey toward wholeness and healing. I can now look upon the child of half-moons and twilight with compassion.

 

gif: twitter.com

FOR BTS

FIX YOU

 

Is it within me or am I within it?

I can no more grasp

my pain than I could forsake my

citadel of winds, this home

I live in but could never enter.

I can no more tell apart

its beginning and my end than

an infant could subject and

object or love given and asked for.

I only know that I count

moments of blood in the snow…

and that you are closer

to me than thought and farther

away than dreams past.

 

I am a shadow of the sky and you

turn air into oceans so I

could see my reflection in your

stasis and flow.

Is it I who sparkle in the waters

or the pulsing chrysalis

of my marrow that seeks to

shatter my bones? Am I a light

to you who shine for me and return

me to the continuum of being?

Then sing till stars give you

their memories! I shall gather your

notes into my heart

and shed them as tears till my vision

clears and I can count poppies

in the snow.

 

© 2021 Lilium Candidum

Lily’s Verse 

FOR BTS

DESIDERATUM

 

I

The Sun filled my windows at First Light;

no rooks cawed; no barbed tracery

of dull slate scarred the ivorine chest,

for hollowed branches jaggedly winding,

winding dirge-like through

birth and passing, were cast to earth,

razed by soundless Storms of inky silver.

 

How ardently they cleaved to crowns of

fading copper and gold,

tending their treasured torment of Silence,

seeking to remain inhumed evermore

in the liminal Season, loath to bequeath

their burnished burden

to winds that attend all and none!

 

II

A Boon, a Blue Moon rained her balsam

into this hallowed haven of

wistful withering, whispering periwinkle

riptides so gently clamant

evoking the dolour of ages that shaped

and braced its ruins, clasping unto

themselves its aery catafalque.

 

The sighing Sage shed ancient memories

as a Soul wept wingless words,

lettering its clamour in purple tints on to

bone-white leaves. Such, It  bonded

to a grey spine to lend them moment,

gathering plentiful sheaves of Its solitary

nocturnal reaping, yet, no lucid harvest.

 

Meaning unspoken, waning, lay sepulchred

amid unuttered phrases and

colourless Springs bled of pith and ardour,

these shells of lives foregone.

Unknowing, It drifted into Its wonted unrest

through somnolent hours, unmindful  of

the imminent Grace of a shadowless Dawn.

 

III

A volant bluebird arcs a path to my Wake,

my Awakening, for I, a mote

cloaked in stardust, go to unweave my life,

dying with each step lightward

to all that is myth or history, a bright death,

an argent conflagration Cyan

and Birdsong bless into an Autumnal rebirth.

 

Breezes that blow over blooming and decay

alike enfold me, wrapping about

my form as a caul, scattering my Ashes to the

limbless Atephile that succoured them.

Violet stars spangle Morning’s azure veiling,

these, my swaddling clothes lucent

as the Eye born into me like a heartbeat.

 

© 2020 Lilium Candidum

Lily’s Verse

Desideratum – that which is needed or desired – was inspired by the artwork in the BTS’s Group Concept Image for BE, its composition of vivifying colours and textures, the language of its brushstrokes and the Blue Moon of October 31, 2020.

Oftentimes, an unexpected blessing serves to open one’s eyes to new paths, illuminating much which one might have consigned to darkness. BTS’s art has been the brightest light in my own black phases, healing and restoring both mind and spirit and instilling hope when all else seemed lost.

2020 had us all trapped to some degree in an emotional wasteland, experiencing prolonged uncertainty and a contraction in personal growth. I marvel at how BTS have transcended their own setbacks and bonded the hearts and souls of multitudes across the globe to theirs and each other’s by sharing their unvarnished truths. The resonance and comfort we have felt in the expression of their states of mind and being are what humankind desires and needs to weather these fraught times with a measure of serenity.

Image (edited): twitter.com (@BigHitEnt)

FOR BTS

BLUE

 

It is the reflection of itself in its own depths,

the curve of tides that live in their

own dreams, for such expand

beyond the universe’s brim.

 

It gives all of its immenseness; not a wave or

particle of its vastness submits

to be contained.

 

It is the voice that causes to know and leads

to be, for it tints freedom’s heart

and peace’s flame.

 

It glows in the lightness of truth’s eurhythmy,

pride’s temperance, tears falling

and smiles taking wing.

 

It is life’s strand in the perils of adventuring,

the filament of steel in fear’s blood.

 

It is a meeting of Angels, the lucidest phantom

in the human crystal.

 

It thrives in infolding echoes and aging irises

grown gentle with knowing…

or bright unknowing.

 

It is anemones spilling verse into the half-light,

chimes catching the first wind-note of spring,

summer’s last gaze lifting autumn’s

leaf litter into haloed bronze.

 

It is the sposh of early snow, the solace of ice,

the whisper of moonlit skifts.

 

It is the quietude that enfolds absence defined

and loneliness understood.

 

It is immersion, profound contemplation, futurity,

where magic remains.

 

It is the union of eternity, elements and duality,

time’s breath stopped at beauty’s doors

and love returned.

 

It is the twirling of fireflies sparkling into twilight

to spar with stars.

 

It is an hour, a realm, a question mark, a phrase,

a light, radiance that soothes the spirit

and washes illusions from its vaults.

 

It is the sky behind your eyes bleeding as souls,

as song, through spaces words could not fill.

Do you grow into it or does it grow with you?

 

It is your higher destiny,

for you see in blue and blue...

 

© 2021 Lilium Candidum

Lily’s Verse

Image: twitter.com (@FallonTonight)

FOR HOBI

HOPEBRINGER

 

A word falls through the grey, a golden ray

that needs no other

to lend it meaning. It holds a key,

a higher herald of presence and calm

that hours the impending leap of faith.

Rapture is your medium, bright Soulmaker,

the kernel of your Self

glowing unbound and boundless,

a resolved yet ungraspable amalgam of steel

and equilibrium the momentum

of your questing powers.

I lay down my burden before your luminous

cannonade that controverts

an ancient postulate - that which weights

and scars the spirit

carries the greatest moment and weight…

I ponder the profoundness

of the simple truth you shine in a breath and

an instant, yet live through infinity,

for your lucid, sparkling Fount

veils an elemental ingenuity that aligns with

suns and walks along stars.

 

I yield to your spells of essential fire, quieting

the inner maelstrom that is the song

of my eternal atonement,

pausing to burn in service to my wounds

or their memory, that I may with daring run

the gauntlet of life’s blazing rhythms.

Your eyes glisten, listen, even as they see

beyond my utterances,

subsuming the inflection of my path,

beaming its ballast around my irresolution

like a force field of light

and lightness echoing an unknown precept:

Had Sisyphus only known to break his labours,

laying his boulder down

now and then to climb upon it!

Soar, my Hopebringer and Peacekindler,

into blueward fields and azure waves,

where the airy bliss of purest unknowing glides

over the forever plains of youth;

where meadows watch you bloom as you dance

in the wind, for you are the form

and the flow; where violet blossoms consphere

around you in response

to your tuneful call, chorusing every euphonic

phrase of inspiration.

Gather your blue dreams, for they make my sky.

 

© 2021 Lilium Candidum

Lily’s Verse

Image: twitter.com

FOR HOBI

SOULMAKER

 

Your gaze pins the beat glistening

like a golden plummet

in the darkly burnished glow.

You burgeon from point to plane

to flame, into rarest grace

within the trammels of precision,

gliding and rolling

like a molten blaze, bending light

and air, shining every shade -

day, moon and phare,

rising mists and falling twilight -

kindling stars in your wake.

Tones arc like arrows toward your

feet, hovering like wings,

twinkling and ringing

as you pattern your way through

singing indigo rays.

 

You expand into dimensions

I neither know nor see, melting into

music’s truth,

transfiguring into its mirror.

Notes, charmed by their crested

reflections, find new voices,

sparkling as though endowed with

numina and harmony

they did not know they craved.

Rhythms lure and loft

you into haunting, haunted waves,

every strand sinuous

and sharp possessing your sinews

and bones, sweeping into

melodic bands and tracing gravity,

sculpting the furnace

and symbols that forge your spins

and steps till creator, creation

and receptacle merge into a field…

like heaven.

 

I imbibe each fire-driven, silver-struck,

gold-finished leap

along the Universe’s limb that echoes

the thunder peal of the spirit,

the lightning of the heart,

for such craft is soul making,

where moments crescendo into Art.

The last cadence descends

to earth; you alight into it as an Angel,

as I sink into goneness,

for I am calcined, restored to ashes,

set on the course to my Inner Sun.

 

© 2021 Lilium Candidum

Lily’s Verse

Image: twitter.com

FOR NAMJOON

DUST

 

Thoughts loop and twine under a Bell of blue and gold,

chiming hymns to the God of your Perception,

ringing and clinging to Day’s columns and architraves,

to flamant ladders they would ascend

in search of dreams or redemption.

“Clock hands wander withershins,

bereft of rhythm and reason like disjointed bones

or pulseless veins flailing in regnant winds of decay;

Time has gone astray, it scores my roots,

severs my branches, carving an ancient pain

upon the lonely page of my heartwood.”

 

Your eyes trace the soft bend of rays around the eaves

to the coral bower of the flaming Cosmic Jewel,

drawn by some strange alchemy to contemplate me,

an infinitesimal in the limitless plenum of Creation.

Your path unfolds between an atom and a star,

yet you ponder a speck, a particle,

an illusion the sages avow your senses shape.

I am not Language or Music or the night-darkened,

star-lightened idyll of the seeker’s spirit;

I am no rain-summoner nor oak-hallower whose craft

conduces to inscendence and involution.

 

Yet I know myself as spaciousness, as indefinableness

tethered to Earth and matter of Seven Spheres;

the quietism that steers your highest art

paves my bestowed way,

for I seek to pilgrimage through, not to.

Why dread the fall and loathe the falling?

Why fragment to pieces when the Elements impel you

to inward rising, when Presence empowers you

to break open the gibbous moment

and imbibe the seeds of its panacea?

Why inscribe your journey as unceasing stichomancy

toward your worth?

 

Let Life live through you as an uprush into your truths.

Return to your inmost Flame,

to the space that wonders not what you have,

but purposes what has you,

for it witnessed the Sleight of the eternal Hand before

the Veil made your eye.

Time revels in your blossoming; you are a bloom of light

that bears an immenser Story,

yet we are alike past and future crystallised

in an eternal present; we shall somewhen cease to exist

and still persist, still be.

 

Would you be frightened or fear-brightened,

heed the foundry of your mind or the mill of your soul?

Together, we shall blaze as suns and dim as mysteries,

young Prophet of the Clouds,

chanting charms of making and breaking,

our arcs faced with the rippling silk of varying skies.

 

© 2021 Lilium Candidum

Lily’s Verse

Image: twitter.com