Monthly Archives: December 2006

For Patricia — in appreciation

FITZ SEED: “stands tall through the fresh snow fall”

TITLE: Stand tall, my friends, as the cold winds blow

The cycle of nurture, bloom and harvest,
lies quiet now ‘neath sleeping snows –
though some must refuse to play the game,
from hearing some other song
that calls to stand guard and protect.

Do not lie down easy,
nor strip off your passions,
nor fear the waning, barren sun;
but stand with me
in EverLight.



Sowing Seeds

Winters in Upstate, New York, along the Finger lakes are harsh and long. The thistle plant (Onopordum acanthium) stands tall through the fresh snow fall. It’s colors of purple flowers and dark green picky leaves have long left. The seeds that are dispersed with autumn winds also feed the lingering gold finches that remain through this season of fierce cold.

 Cactus Hill –

Patricia   … to continue

Am I really here?

I have a small fear

I’m not really here.

Arriving At Darlene’s

I arrive at the door of #9 Nut Cracker Lane to the smells of sugar cookies and spices. Pine fills my nose. The red door is decorated with a pine cone wreath, guarded by Nut Crackers, varying in height.     … three more posts are awaiting at the Lemurian Tour blog of Patricia

The Gift

Thoroughly unprepared for meeting Enchanteur I have left a letter of apology as to the absence of my gift. I am crafting a lap cover of sorts and only was able to manage three blocks while on the train.

In my best handwriting, with sepia colored ink on linen paper, I enclosed the letter in a scented envelope. When I reached the train station I asked the porter where to post mail. He explained rather harshly – ‘we don’t do it this way here – we send telegrams’, and pointed towards a rather long line. I gathered my bags, and proceed to take my place in the line. The telegraph was rather timely, some may even say old fashion. A tiny man with a permanent smile and rather large teeth stamped a portion of my letter onto a Christmas type paper. He then walked outside his booth and placed the new correspondence into a treasure trunk. I watched mostly stunned and opened my change purse to pay for the service – he quickly said, ‘Oh no, Miss, there is no charge for mail on the road to the Alluvial Mine.’

My attention turned back to the treasure chest- it was overflowing with different size boxes wrapped with the finest care and silk bows attached. Panic over took me. Why had I not chose another gift, a finished gift to be precise? How was I going to wrap the gift once I finished? I can only hope to pass some gift shops on the Owl Creek Road and purchase wrapping paper and ribbon.

Suddenly I see her! It is Enchanteur! She is looking through the trunk. She reads my letter – her lips twist with distain and she looks around the old train station. I stand rigid behind a pillar, balancing myself on my toes, hoping not be found. I fear  if she locates me I will be left behind and I must complete this journey. I have wanted to take this journey for the past two years and unfortunate circumstances have held me back. No!, I will not let this happen a third time. A shrill whistle goes off and she turns and leaves abruptly … I am safe. I move along once again to take my place on the Owl Creek Road.

Patricia Stewart

For Jan – a prizm

I promised a Fitz fro any who would come to the Abbey,
though I hadn’t planned on four at once —
but will if you insssisst.

papa faucon

SSSEED: ’skwour skafire skeathers’

Translation: “even thee Jan as now”

Open and shut – black and white,
here, there and gone –
feather fire lost in rush,
and soul’s need
for coloring.

Yet was not always so –
before man decided duality must reign,
and everything judged better than —
while the mere act of creation
strikes fire in eternity,
and showers down
to light the way for others.

Jan,Wacam, Mule and the Viper – Family Therapy!

“So, we have here Jan, Wacam, Mule and eh hm, Viper” “Yes.”Sqwk.” “Sure.” “Hisssss  – I’m here my dear.”

“Shurrup with your slimy ‘yes dears’ you slithering, hissing, horrible, horrid jumped up worm. It’s all your fault we’re here! Do us a favour and creep back to where you came from, leave us alone, I hate and detest the sight of you; I could kill you!”

“Oh my dear Mule don’t be like that, surely this is a time for reflection and reconciliation – hsssss.” “Don’t argue with him Mule, please don’t take on so, it’s my fault we’re here, I’ve allowed this to happen, I walked us all into the darkness.”

“Ah, hm, yes, I wonder if we could pause for a second so that I can see where you all are and if there are other opinions on this matter. I want you to see this session as a place of learning and enlightenment, that won’t happen if the time is spent apportioning blame. Are we agreed on that? Good. Now, Jan, when did you notice yourself walking ‘into the darkness’ as you describe it? How long has that been going on?”

“Do you mean how long this time or how much of my life?”

“There are no right or wrong answers Jan, just tell me about the ‘darkness’.”

“Okay. I would say it started when I was about 4 years old, so more or less all my life. This bad spell I’m having now reared up about a month back, it was subtle, slow at first  – but now it’s really got me in a strangle hold.”

Silence. This happens with many psycho-therapists, they leave spaces for their patients to fill, they give nothing of themselves, reflect back at you what you tell them. It’s got a fancy name but apparently it’s the hardest type of therapy to be in because you can hide behind your chair with your coat over your head shivering and sobbing and the most they will do is lean forward a little. I went through this for years and the way it ended was truly awful, even my GP was shocked – (GP General Practitioner, my doctor who works at the local surgery and is the person who refers me to a Consultant at a hospital if I need a specialist  examination and /or treatment.) I am not putting Wacam and Mule through that kind of cyberspace therapy!

“Can you describe it – any of you – can you tell me what it’s like for you now or when you knew there was a problem?”

“Skwk, skw, sk, s…..  ”

“Hmm, so you’re a little ….lethargic… Wacam?”

“No, he’s an idle, lazy, good for nothing son of a parrot who only shows up when he’s on easy street! When the going gets tough he takes his wings home and makes out he can’t fly anymore. SQUAWKKKKK help me oh help me because I have lost the will to fly….. Oh no, my feathers are losing their lustre, help me, oh help me… me……..”

“Skw….you’re a horrible mule Mule, I’m moulting, my sapphire blue feathers are dropping out in tufts… infact I’m almost bald and….. I am a Macaw, pure bred, Macaw… my parents are not common and garden parrots. You are offensive, aggressive and stubborn – you’re an ass! No, you’re an assho…”

“Wacam! There’s no need for that kind of talk! It would help me if you two would stop squabbling… as for you Mule, please stop pulling everyone to pieces and winding them up, we’re all in this together, TOGETHER… ”

“Skawry Jan.”  “I’ll try to curb my temper, sorry Jan.” “You don’t need to apologise, I’ve done this to you, stopped Wacam flying, made you a beast of burden with all my endless complaints…. but shouting and being nasty won’t help me to make you feel better – okay?”

“Hssss – sounds fine to me. The parrot’s weak and feeble, the mule is a plodding donkey and the Jan issss ssssooo happy to take the blame. You do know dear lady therapist that I’m only here to observe, I take it all those years of training haven’t blinded you to the obvious? The obviousssss, hsssss, not your strong point I sssussspect dear lady, hsssss….”

“Things are never quite so black and white, hmm, we may find that you’re more involved than you think….Viper?”

“V.I.P for sshhort… but feel free to call me… whatever, hssss.”

“Sqwa…. I wish you’d hissss off to where you came from and leave us alone.”

“Well, sense at last from the pathetic parrot! I don’t give a toss how important you think you are you long streak of …”   “MULE!” …” hiss, long streak of hiss.”

“I’m exhausted, it’s impossible to think straight, I cry a lot…everything looks black, everything is black. It’s a black hole, the gravity is so powerful I’m being sucked further in. I can feel it swirling and crushing my body into a tight space; there’s no light in a black hole, no breathing space… oblivion.”


The clock ticked,  steady, rhythmical – reassuring – a welcome break, a pause to consider and draw breath, a few moments without pressure.

“It’s as though I’m being smothered, I can’t breathe, can’t see – imagine an Egyptian mummy with thick, black bandages – and then, for no reason, everything changes and I experience the same emotions in a different but equally ghastly way.”

“Skww..a..a.. black is so not my colour. My feathers, my marvellous, exotic, multi-coloured magnificence….  I will be barred from all society of rank and breeding. Shunned by my blood relatives…. relegated to conversing with… with…. budgies!”

“Oh Wacam I’m so sorry to have done this to you, so sorry, it’s all my fault, you should never have associated with me, I do this to everyone; drag them into a world with no colour, bring them down, taint them with my presence. Please try to fly…. go back to The Calabar and convalesce, hitch a ride to Africa… try Wacam, try to fly!”

“Skwa… skw… sk… I can’t Jan, I don’t feel confident, I have no energy, no reason, no purpose, I may never fly again…. I may spend the rest of my days like this, shackled, imprisoned… grounded.”

“Oh dear, oh pass us the tissues… some of us have never flown but we’re not moaning and groaning, yearning for ‘skwour skafire skeathers’ and where we’ll be in society! Get a grip!”

 “Don’t be so angry Mule, I know it’s difficult for us but Wacam does have a point. He was born to fly and now he can’t so please allow him to be upset, it’s not his fault that you have never flown and have a rough, itchy, plain brown coat.”

“Brayeee…brayeee… just hang on a sec Jan, we can’t all have fancy clothes in lovely colours. My coat has served me well, it fits its purpose…. and it’s needed to with everything I’ve had to carry. The only wonder is that I haven’t broken my back or crushed my knees…. the burden has got heavier by the day. I’m not having a go at you… just stating the facts.”

“I know Mule, I know and I’m sorry, more sorry than you will ever know! I don’t deserve you, you’re a wonderful friend but I can’t cope with the tug of war, the arguing and bad feeling. The two of you should leave me and go to a place where you’ll be appreciated and people won’t endanger your sanity with crippling burdens! Leave Mule, leave me and drop off all the things that are weighing you down, go and live your life.”

“Hmm, could I intervene here for a second? Do I take it that you feel responsible for the feelings of Wacam and Mule? So much so that you want them to leave and begin their lives elsewhere even though you seem to have had, perhaps still have, a close relationship? Where does that leave you – and Viper?”

“Hisssss… have no qualms on my behalf dear lady, Jan and I have rarely been closer hisssss… I love her, I have no intention of leaving and, hissss, she doesn’t know how to get rid of me, we are hsssss – loversssss.”

“Skwaaaa…. she doesn’t like you…. shkwee told me, I don’t like you, we’re fine when you’re not here, we’re happy, we are aren’t we Jan, you love me don’t you, you love Wacam don’t you?”

“Oh Wacam I love you dearly…. I adore you…. but sometimes we fly a little too high and I fall and crash…. but never think I don’t love you, I will always  love you… there is so much  colour and vibrancy when you are around, so much fun…. ”

“Oh yesssss, sssooo much fun…. what a ssshhhame Jan always crashes when sssheee flies with you, sssooo difficult for Mule to to pick her up again…. perhapssss you ssshould be on your way. I’ll take care of Jan hisssss…”

“Oh don’t worry, we all know how well you’ll take care of her, you won’t be satisfied until she’s creeping along on her belly, listening to you whispering poison into her ear forever… you… you… snake in the grass!”

“Mule! Don’t antagonise it please, it doesn’t help! It’s my fault he’s here…. drop the burdens… take a rest, please, please …. graze, go somewhere lovely, a large field, a meadow… take a rest!”

“Hisssss – good advicccce… leave ussss Mule…. ssssave yourssself.”

“Oh Mule my dearest friend, I’ve worn you out, you’re exhausted. I have to go on alone from here, I have to search for a light, a glimmer of hope, this is all my fault.”

“Hisssss…hardly alone, hisssss, I’ll be there…. ‘it’ – I won’t forget that dear Jan…hisssss.”

“Right, well, our session is almost over, hmm, we need to see where today’s journey has taken us and sum up what we’ve learned. It seems to me that Wacam is desperately unhappy, Mule is anxious… and angry. Viper, you seem to be… contented… but I have to say hmm, there exists a palpable animosity between the three of you….and Jan, you take the blame for everything – which leaves you depressed, anxious, angry, bitter and…. confused. Am I near the mark or have I got you all wrong?”

” Swkno.”


“I think you’re on the right lines.”

“Viper? Do you have anything to add? I am going to recommend a further appointment, are you willing to attend?”

“Attend? Mmmhssss – I think you will find Jan goes nowhere without me…. indeed I am in the ascendancy, I dictate her every move… hisssss.”

“I see. Okay then, hmmm, same time next week? Does that suit the four of you?”

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to come on fixed days and times, may we leave it open?”

“Of course. Hmm Jan – before you leave, hmm, have you considered medication, just as a prop whilst we talk this through?”

“I’m on the maximum amount that can be prescribed without being hospitalised. My doctor is coming on Wednesday, we’re going to discuss the situation.”

“Ahh, I see, I see.”

“I’m not sure if you or anyone else ‘sees’ for that matter… but I thank you… I owe thanks to so many people, more than you’ll ever know… I’ll do my best to turn up. Thank you for listening. Bye bye.”

The door closed.

Psss…psss… Jan, in here, Jan.”

“Who’s that? Viper? Where are you?”

“Psss, in here… in here Jan, look in the pouch…”

“Hank! Oh Hank, it’s so nice to see you, I thought you’d stayed on The Calabar… don’t get involved with this, it’s horrid.”

“Psss, shurrup, I’ve got a message for you, hik, soz, just had a lovely drop of rum, hik.”

“Honestly Hank!  You’re a devil! What’s the message?”

“Hic, hic, it’s from that French bird with the weird name, Len, Chan, Teurea….?”

“What is it Hank, what, come on, what is it?”

Hic, she says, hang on, I wrote it hic…down…got it…listen….”

“Tell me Hank, quickly!”

“It says, hic, ‘Go to the Abbey darling, your room is ready, there are friends waiting… the lights are on, look up sweetheart, lift up your eyes, walk toward the light.’ hic, hic, don’t cry Jan, please don’t cry……is it bad news, you don’t have to go there.”

“Don’t worry Hank, it’s not bad news, it’s not bad news at all.”