A Spider’s Quest
From weeping willow branches hung shining
strings that crossed ten thousand times within; winds
shook the branches but that shining door clings
to its web framework as the spider winds
its spell-weaving down; each filament stands
as incantation to open the ways
‘tween lands mortal and those forever banned.
Night’s falling swift on that lake ‘neath which ways
to dark realms are irising open, doors
to the Undeem and the baby lost.
Ripples spread as the sun drops and the doors
‘tween planes open spilling an inky host
into the water churning it, chasing
three shadows under night’s darkening wing.
~ ~ ~
“You’re certain they won’t see that glowing mass?”
Hen regarded his two comrades, whose small
courage’d brought him this far, so chance might pass
him an opportunity to save all.
Chero nodded to his spider centered
on its web; when the last dandelion
gleamed and sun’s rays ceased to beam, dark entered
the web, running with black triskelion
feet, replacing sun’s light with demin night.
Cotton candy clouds shredded by thick lines
of rising Undeem, spat out of the tight
confines of their plane-spanning bridge, whose spines
are made of bones; a sure sign that below
nothing but woe for those who that way go.
~ ~ ~
They waited as night deepened and the tide
of Undeem flowing forth slowed to a trickle.
The spider roused itself and crawled inside
the web which stretched out tendrils to tickle
time and space apart forming a real door
that hung in the air, and without fanfare,
flung open to reveal dark without poor
stars to light it; stygian with no care
spared for those who entered this awful realm.
“Come, we must follow the spider and cleave
to his path,” Chero said, not overwhelmed
by the sight as he took wing and perceived
the path; Anasril, that brave girl, beside
him flying, her heart in eyes that to him slide.
~ ~ ~
Hen seized his courage by its fraying ends,
then recalled the blade he’d carried whose light
had dimmed when Undeem eyes had scanned this bend
of lake shore and missed their shrub hideout right
in plain sight, steps from the fresh lake’s cold drink.
He speared his blade into the dark; it gave
way to expose a watery wall; spell linked
together held the water parted, gave
a path for him to walk dry shod forward,
as time unspooled and they became unmoored
crossing planes far from Shayari’s greensward.
The spider stopped, then scaled the black contours
of a barnacled door; it crawled o’er runes
activating them so they played a tune.
~ ~ ~
A haunting melody that vibrated
bones with xylophone tones and heralded
a flash, the door rotated, inflated,
sucked up the air ’round them and imperiled
all as waves swept them down into the drink.
They plummeted into a vortex fed
by magic through a city that still sinks.
Chero’s spider led the way; down it sped,
past living rooms still furnished, where ghosts float
keeping a spectral eye on their drowned stuff.
Bubbles trailed them; spells aid breathing, a note
of hope in the quiet gloom; it’s enough
to hang their success on, that slender thread.
He grips the sword he found and shoves down dread.
~ ~ ~
The Quest continues tomorrow.
If you liked this, you’ll love:
It’s an enthralling tale told in verse with a quest that centers on finding the heart of this winter season.
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