Cartilage Of Our Clan
© Surazeus
2018 05 26
While twisting ivy vines into thick strands
to weave wicker basket with crafting hands,
Lucia whistles popular melodies
that muses play on the theater stage.
Returning from the vineyard on gray donkey,
Tumnus falls drunk into soft pile of hay,
then staggers across atrium to workbench
where he slouches to watch Lucia twist vines.
"I am the most worthless fool in the world,"
he mumbles, caressing her long red curls,
"for I am the cartilage of our great clan,
the stupid drunk in house of senators."
Lucia grips his chin to glare in his eyes,
"You are strong cartilage of our noble clan,
for your twisted jokes that mock haughty fools
bind our hearts together with your pure love."
"Since our mother died in the accident,
crushed by frightened horses pulling the cart
heavy with brass cauldrons, your playful words
lighten our heavy hearts with loving laughter."
Kissing her check, her shoulder, and her arm,
Tumnus laughs and flops backward on the bench,
"I am the big toe of our noble clan
for I keep stubbing it in trying to dance."
Lurching to his feet, Tumnus sways to music
only he can hear, curving arms up high
like cloud-leaping hawk wings, then twirls around
like old women in some cordax mask dance.
"Your playful joy for the beauties of life,"
Lucia giggles, watching him dance, "inspire
my heart to see the world the way you dream
its mundane facts as wondrous miracles."
"You weave your dance through spaces of our hearts
like I weave these strands of elegant plants
to create baskets that help me carry fruit,
along with nuts and mushrooms I can find."
"Though many people buying meat at the market
discard the cartilage of the animal
as the part worthless for us to consume,
yet it binds bodies of all creatures whole."
"You are the cartilage that holds us together,
focusing our minds on important tasks,
for though you are wild from angst of stalled hope,
yet you lead us straight on this journey of life."
Bowing to her praise, Tumnus lifts small flute
he carved from hawk bone, and plays melody
quicker than hummingbird on lilting wings
while prancing pale in beams of flashing light.
© Surazeus
2018 05 26
While twisting ivy vines into thick strands
to weave wicker basket with crafting hands,
Lucia whistles popular melodies
that muses play on the theater stage.
Returning from the vineyard on gray donkey,
Tumnus falls drunk into soft pile of hay,
then staggers across atrium to workbench
where he slouches to watch Lucia twist vines.
"I am the most worthless fool in the world,"
he mumbles, caressing her long red curls,
"for I am the cartilage of our great clan,
the stupid drunk in house of senators."
Lucia grips his chin to glare in his eyes,
"You are strong cartilage of our noble clan,
for your twisted jokes that mock haughty fools
bind our hearts together with your pure love."
"Since our mother died in the accident,
crushed by frightened horses pulling the cart
heavy with brass cauldrons, your playful words
lighten our heavy hearts with loving laughter."
Kissing her check, her shoulder, and her arm,
Tumnus laughs and flops backward on the bench,
"I am the big toe of our noble clan
for I keep stubbing it in trying to dance."
Lurching to his feet, Tumnus sways to music
only he can hear, curving arms up high
like cloud-leaping hawk wings, then twirls around
like old women in some cordax mask dance.
"Your playful joy for the beauties of life,"
Lucia giggles, watching him dance, "inspire
my heart to see the world the way you dream
its mundane facts as wondrous miracles."
"You weave your dance through spaces of our hearts
like I weave these strands of elegant plants
to create baskets that help me carry fruit,
along with nuts and mushrooms I can find."
"Though many people buying meat at the market
discard the cartilage of the animal
as the part worthless for us to consume,
yet it binds bodies of all creatures whole."
"You are the cartilage that holds us together,
focusing our minds on important tasks,
for though you are wild from angst of stalled hope,
yet you lead us straight on this journey of life."
Bowing to her praise, Tumnus lifts small flute
he carved from hawk bone, and plays melody
quicker than hummingbird on lilting wings
while prancing pale in beams of flashing light.
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