Monādān, Confronted
I – Monādān, Confronted
A creeping song of malcontent,
Entered through a fragile hide,
The One in doting, is absent,
In Bower of Gods woe betide.
Thy fair kindred gathered ’round,
Suckling on unmarrowed bones,
Abandoned their fears compound,
Shambling on to vacant thrones.
The Bower begets / boisterous offspring,
Whose lilting lyres / lay all low,
In the boughs of tall trees / talking, tasking.
Twilit Lorëlei to spy and know,
The movements of gentle father, to his garden go.
Lorëlei with secret babe at hand,
The unborn, brimming with potential,
Wresting her courage from those hidden lands,
Striking action where kin are ornamental,
Speaks lullabies to that unborn child,
“Covenant, sweetling, the father reconciled.”
For it seemed the babe beckoned back,
A-filled with promise and distant motion,
To be set apart, as the One,
To challenge him in grace, and ruin.
Lorëlei onward pressed,
Past the empty seat,
Thru starry hall,
Her empty nest,
Where once she rest,
Her aching feet,
Now raised she up,
On gilded barge,
Made in honour,
Of fae entourage,
Star Weaver flotilla,
Lighting unlit stars,
Musing their beauty,
Of beauty, they are.
Out she sailed,
Toward the leaguer,
Thru the veiled,
Field of stars,
She assayed,
To greet the marked Weaver,
Whose mighty art,
From worlds apart,
Tore her from,
Father dear.
Then she wheeled / warily to flotilla,
Cresting carefully / on creative convoy,
Chancing to steal / sight of Silūria,
A sojourn of vengeance upon up-jumped toys,
Outgrown their play and weaving the future,
All while father, in his stupor,
Dishes out our birth-right owed,
As gild for his fae-turned bride.
In midst of cruising barges,
Recapturing her childhood fancy,
Lorëlei wracked with urges,
To drop her ills, engage in whimsy,
And watch the dainty dancers,
Engage in their great task,
Nimble, weaving, world-enhancers,
Sowing in stars her every ask,
Their sellic charm, all enamours.
Adrift and adorned,
Wariness beaten from,
Her heavenly body,
In a sea of storms,
Crashing in agony,
Pangs of creation,
Dancing in ecstasy,
Sweet sublimation.
Then after a mere glimpse,
She is ruptured from it,
Upon a torrent of anger she hid,
Stirring even the weavers,
From all their schemes diverse.
There, on the horizon of the bound,
Father reclines and whispers,
Sweet nothings and tingling sounds,
In fair, romantic discourse,
With bold Silūria, in her manse.
Upon them Lorëlei descends.
About him she glides and swims,
Circling his body like celestial sphere,
Who in his orbit, at his whims,
Captures his delight and holds him dear,
Every orbit, coming ever nearer.
Till finally rests upon his palm,
And shaking God begins to calm.
Lorëlei sick of this wild psalm,
Seethes and wreathes anger and harm.
Her body straining,
While her coiled tresses,
Abound her skin maiming,
Tighter and tighter caresses,
Constricting,
Stoking fire so bright,
Itself smoting,
Till body wrapped,
Wracked and fading,
Suddenly from depths there came,
A wailing.
Outstretched the wretch, Monādān,
Lord of the first ere world turned,
Embraces daughter, enwombed a Son,
First offspring of Progeny unspurned,
Monādān sought to temper the foetus learned,
Whose touch, raging fire forever burned.
For at the moment, he braced her navel,
Out sped a force whose endless course,
Hammered a beat, thundering loud and stable,
Cowing the lord, filling with remorse,
For on the horizon of being,
Was a nascent force,
Who when risen up,
Would be his unseating.
Continued here:
https://emergent-sea.co.uk/2025/08/06/fall-of-the-bower-of-the-gods-ii/
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