Upon The Mighty Raging Sea - The Starman Poem by Saparonia Kathleen Holliday

Upon the mighty raging sea,
Whirlpools of fiery sparks,
Catherine wheels of light and mist mix with the foam of time.
Tossed by unseen movements a tiny globe is floating on the tides. Flotsam swirls around its contours,
Attracted by invisible smooth ripples.
Dashed to smooth curves,
Rare and precious treasure pebbles
Dance in the flotsam, around the tiny globe,
Lost in that vast sea,
Tossed aside by finned entities.
Together they ride the foam of endless ocean.

Upon his bed of green soft flotsam,
In peaceful tranquility,
Gazing out at other treasure pebbles,
Upon the most precious jeweled blue sapphire,
Swimming in the azure sea,
The purple man soaks up the rays of green made by the yellow globe.

The purple man sees and understands.

The lines of his world are shining silver light,
For him there is no darkness in the night.
Beset by cares he glances at the fractal flotsam,
Sees himself reflected, unfolding, timeless.
Cares melt in mellow green.

The purple man fades and expands,
Nebula fills the ocean wide and everything folds, unfolds; breathes in and out.
Allfather stands beside the gate.

Where the fish swim and water snakes,
Where rivers run and wash the mountains silt upon the shore,
There one day the star man came descending from a ship that sails the ocean Sky.
The purple man was dreaming as before.
From far away where people live in light,
From where there is no hunger, fear or pain,
Where none deceive because there is no gain,
Where power is within and all are free,
Wayland came.

Sitting by the river in the mud,
Fingers sinking into rich red clay
He saw this world so full of music and in love,
He sought the matrix seeds that dormant lay.
Weaving the matrix then this Wayland made a pair of people from the clay,
Calling to the green fire of life,
He gave them this garden free, to care for
And in which to learn and play.

The purple man, who on his misty pillow lay
Said to Wayland then,
"Will you not stay? "
The star man answered,

"I have so far to go and there is so much I want to see,
You stay here awhile and tell them this:
They are the keepers now of flotsam Zu,
You can teach them all that they must know.
Say to them and get it right,
'you are the children of the light, travel where you will;
you are not bound here by the clay.
In all who say, "I am" there is the life,
All who live are one in truth, this moment does not pass away.'
I will return to visit you one day."

Purple light shines green around the gate,
All pass to and fro.
There were the flying elephants of old,
Bright butterfly wings and iridescent scales,
Fire within they blew and rose to mate
High in the careless foam of space.

"I see, I see, " the purple man exclaims,
"I will leave a legacy."
Then taking out his notebook draws a stone and then another,
Places both together high upon the hill.
"All shall know! " he cries and gives them eyes and crowns.
Thrones they hold with firm rock fingers,
King and queen in rock of jewels tiny crystal shimmers.
Eyes gaze out along the silver lines of truth,
Eyes of stone,
A small notch in the place the eyes alight their vision.

"Now all will know." He spreads his cloak
And sleeps beneath the hill in quiet satisfaction.
Dreams he did the task and lost in thought forgets.
Stones stand waiting in dreams of eyes that only dreamers see
And ride the light that only globe green rays can ride
In pale yellow day.

"Forget, forget."
Whispers of the shining huntress sing sweetly
Residents of the butterfly house are soothed
Filled with wonder.
Dancing light reflects from yellow sand.
Lifting hot feet to cool in baking oven rays.

Skating on tension, walking on invisible support
A fish jumps from the water of a lake,
Cascading diamond spray around golden wings
Plunges back into the familiar world.
Together all are one and life renewed.
Wisps of purple smoke rise from a burning pile of old splendid green boughs
Now brown and brittle.
Delicious waves cook as chatter rises in anticipation.
Toes muddy and wet
Warm as much as they dare
Faces shine as globe of green gives energy.
Wisteria sweet twists its tendrils on the gatepost
Spreads its fingers wide to reach the stars.

The white and shining orb that, with full sails,
Is dancing with the flotsam sapphire,
Tells her story in the ripples of a darkened pool.
As in each drop the orb is,
so it is with all
And in all flows the green.

A grey cat-wolf with silky coat,
who sweetly purrs sinks her teeth into feathers,
Warm nourishment flows from vein to vein.
Carrying proudly to the doorstep leaves the gift,
Pricked purple fingers drip blood as tears flow for the tiny, feathered form.

Misunderstanding of the gift and weary sleep claim the mourner.
In the corner stands a child of dusty clothes,
Untidy and ragged feathers.
Grey coloured and brown his hair,
Face, and hair all dusty and brown.
In mind of purple song was singing sad songs of green trees and fields of flowers and seeds.
The child turns and eyes as old as time look deep as hands are stretched to greet.
The purple man takes outstretched hands and they dance to music of the ocean deep.

"It cannot end, the green can never end, it just returns."
Round they dance, as the child is filled with light.
Transparent power touches purple hands
Spirit surges to pull the purple man to stand before the gate.

Purple man rides on steed of unicorn;
who sheds his twisted horn of white and says,

"With this you may write.
Tell the keepers of Zu to teach their subjects true."
His purple fingers hold the shining torch as on the saddle of his steed he carves the key,
the binary.
"All is here! " he shouts, "it is enough for all to be and all who will to see!
Freedom is my gift to humanity! "
Walking to the golden shore,
Breathes the green fire to his steed,
"Fly now and take my pattern home for all to learn."
The unicorn, now dragon born and horse is manifest,
With fiery nostrils and shining fins
Swims into the long and winding currents of the thread of gold.

From that island home is cast the stone,
Off it goes into the seas of time, the circle seas.
Music wafts around the globe as jeweled pebbles sing.
The purple man, his eyes upon the depths,
His head on soft flotsam pillow
Looks horizontally.
Wanders paths of space between.

A king of Zu in earnest thought
Upon the shore, a hornless unicorn has caught.
A dragon horse who will not bear
But shakes his saddle,
Burden gone he flies into the air.
This trinket fine will grace the royal belt,
A medallion the king does wear;
Magic token lost in time
As those who knew could not stay
To the music danced away.
Beyond the gate,
Into the ocean deep they to while away,
Until the wafting air lifts up the drops to bear.

Within the turbulence of that wild sea of calmness
Where regular tides disguise,
Mountains are ground, their pieces smashed and broken into shimmering beads of light.
Each piece the matrix seed does hold within its crystal frame and life its energy.
They shoot forth in forces,
Travel star to star,
Globe upon globe they circumnavigate
And chaos brings movement to the stagnant ponds of flotsam,
Pools stirring, breathing life.

In Zu, the wanderers, who had no houses yet,
Who lived among the stars and trees,
Gathered round fires to eat
Their fruit and seeds at Mothers knee
And told their oral histories.

Memories of mine and theirs and time distorts the tales,
So pictures made they to endure
But meanings lost as careless child is watching dripping fat of meat,
And mouth is watering at the food to eat.
Within the ring of warmth and fire the wild beast fears,
The stories fall distorted on deaf ears.

"Remember well the lessons here:
Once our world was full of fear.
The seas rose up and swallowed whole the land of Zu,
The air was cold.
The globe its shining rays of green
Was hid beneath a reddish sheen of fire
As worlds collided higher.
The cold it came,
The ice giants walked upon the land,
So I was taught.
Now eat this meat the hunter men have brought."
Within the shamans cave the purple man sleeps and walks on paths of many feet.

On bellies laid upon a hill of hot dry golden sand,
The purple man looks down with his band
Of friends upon the tall city gate below.
Beyond he sees the golden domes
Tall white towers of so fair a place.
A white wall stretches far as he can see
By the gate two fierce lions guard
With swords of shining steel.

"I know not how to enter there."
Finds he is inside,
Alone and the white city walls are high around him.
Trepidation grips his thought,
On tiptoes he intrudes in wonder,
Clinging to the walls.
The giant who stoops to lift him smiles,
Gold flashes from ornaments,
Tturquoise beads on olive skin,
Strong muscular arms pick up the purple man
Who looks around and down to see
The white towers are but square pools of proportion huge.
The strong hands plunge him down into clear water cool,
So fresh it cleans,
From showers of silver droplets a babe is raised
Up to the shining pale blue sky.

Seeing a tortoise then beside the waters edge,
The purple man, still having horn of unicorn,
Inscribed the pattern of the nine with movement of the all,
So that he would remember all that Wayland said.
Then silence and dreams were once more inside his head.


Purple man sat at the foot of a great tree.
A red furred squirrel ran up and down the bark,
Collecting food and going deep to keep its secret safe.
Above the tree the globe was shining bright,
Yellow light was all around.
The good folk who dwell in light transparent crystal vessels
Sang their song for all to hear.
As the squirrel gathered food
She heard their voices clear.
Then, scampering along the ground quietly in case the purple man should wake,
She buried down to the deep pools where three watch the water that feeds the sap.
She hummed the song but had not listened to the words and got it wrong before those there to guide the destiny.

"Oh, careless child who listens not when at the fire, who now will tell the history? "
The purple man saw the green sap of the tree within and understood.

"Make a machine! " the keepers say, "for you are bound by clay.
Rip out the sapphires heart and give us power
So that in darkness is the light of day.
We have the words and wisdom here, "
The keepers fight and hide the secret words,

"The nine is ours not yours to know,
We only have the power,
Is it not so?
We are your keepers, guardians true;
We would not lie to you.'

"We took the power from Mother of the tribes
To keep you safe from beasts who roam.
They would not stay outside the ring of warmth and fire
But come inside, devour you in your home.
"The seas rose up before and swallowed Zu,
The people perished all except a few.
Those few were chosen by the unicorn
And here to us a tortoise bore its horn.
We stole the fire that came on flotsam Zu,
We have the lightening here entombed,
The stars that fell in dire punishment,
We kept them to remind you of your doom.
"We took the prophets all and kept their words,
We wrote them down and only we can give those words to you.
He who was here is gone for now but will return,
To judge all those who will not heed our rule.'

"We must make war to punish those who hate,
We must sacrifice to please the beast.
Then within our boundaries you will be safe
In service to our cause
For we are wise."

The slaves of Zu who toil and sweat all day,
All fearful of whatever comes their way;
The slaves who have no water and no food
And not because they have not loved the good,
The slaves who weep for flotsam Zu,
The ones who try to do what they believe is true,
All listened to the keepers and were quiet,
They had no heart to war and die in riot.
They had no heart to disobey the rules
Well taught from their first day.
Some turned and struck their fellows in dismay.

The feet upon the pavement hard in hardness crunch
And shocks run up the legs and bounce the brains of those who cannot see.
Purple streaks the sunrise comes and petals yawn to greet the sailing globe of yellow breathing green.
Herded and obedient, the subjects of the kingdom of Zu wake and queue politely as keepers set the tasty morsels.
Wheels and tides,
Time and ocean turn as globe spins
In eddies and careless diamonds
Sprinkled in the flakes of cornfields
Tell the story unfolding.

Shadows play.
The sickle shines its virgin sweetness horned and lovely;
Sparks of stars surround the misty blue.
Knees and cries on time
Forget the sly insertions
And nourish soon forgotten virtues.

A bell is ringing on the shore.
Sound bounces wave to wave
And lost in purple wandering
A passing bee remembers that it cannot fly
Hurriedly taking scissors
Cuts a fine raft of leaf,
Pointed as a ships bow
Hops aboard to surf and glide
On currents of the sky.

From the deep oceans light,
Wayland sees and sends a whisper from his mind,
The purple man is dreaming still
Among the many others of his kind.

"Its time to wake now, of slumber is enough.
Zu needs to have its gardeners intact,
Its time to plant the Iris bulbs to grow
In pasture and in desert
Before the ice comes back.'

'Seeds of the rainbow must be sown on every track.
When summer dawns on frosted fields,
Fingers of warmth probing
Into the hearts of seeds that sleep,
Come now its time for growing.
Plow the furrows deep.
When summer dawns on frosted fields,
Fingers of warmth probing
Into cold frost hardened hearts.
Awake, its time for knowing! "

The purple man in forest sees green
Light of yellow globe is shining energetically
Its light on all, and one with all he walks in joyful song.
Along a branch a leg is stretched, a long leg,
There a person sits within the tree,
Smiling song of life,

"He's just like me! " the purple man does not intrude
Curiosity is wakened.
The man is standing tall and then is gone before his eyes of sight.
A figure dressed in light,
Not vaporous, a solid man who flickers on and off he sees.
The purple man perplexed is wondering,
When at his side a figure tall and grey is standing,
Branches on his head, without a face in the full light of day.
The purple man looks for the face,
The seat of senses known to know who is it there
And meets an eye as old as universe.
The eye is looking for the same and as they meet in trap of combined senses all,
There is a spark
And purple man is traveling then,
He is not in the planet Zu at all.
The visitor who comes to show the way gives him a choice of paths to take,
He forward walks along a narrow lane with strange and pointed leaves of maize.
Rustling in the plants the other chases past,
He greets him at the other side,
Man of light is shining on and off
Out of the gate the purple man to guide.

The rainbow bridge connecting all the worlds,
The green path that all who live must share,
The purple man looks for the visitor
But turning finds that nothing's there.
Then rippling wave of green comes flowing
Through the woodland and the day,
It passes through all that lies before,
Purple man is standing in its way.
Green fire!
The life!
The sap of tree!
I see!
His spirit soars as Wayland flies away.

Looking down at hands and feet with rainbows shine,
In great delight he finds he is not purple now but made of light sublime.
At his step the irises spring bright.