Moon goddess came to visit the forest last night
Riding on chariots driven by the velvet monkeys
Guarded by hornets and the armies of wasps
Beleaguered in obscurities by Obtaka the magician.

A maker of charms for the thieves and the lovers
Talisman of skies from paled skins of foreheads
Nail maker hooved webs of the antelopes
Shifter of the sharp swords for the reddish ants.
Striding solid at the hour of the midnight
Giving way to doorways to enter the corridors
Illuminated by the translucent light of the moon.

Tender are the dreams under the wider skies
Where buffalos roam in mud staked stripes
Conversing with mirrored spirits of golden ghosts
Witches, wizards, nymphs or other watery sports.

The chameleon on converse with the blizzards
Obeying the command to put spur on the lizards
The crocodiles, hippopotamus, ibis and the lion
Drinking at water holes under direction of wizard
Rocked white, stone turned hatches for the rabbits
Skin rigged, log wooded dug outs for the jackals
The eel of the deep laughing on its trailed dance
And Obtaka the magician roams in rugged stance.

_____________________

SPELLS.

At the cross roads
A megrim of five elements
The place where the ends meet
In four directions of the body
A union of the vital breaths
Within contours of eclipsed sun.

To carry the crimson beads
Shelled within a gripped garland
Forms featured to some confines
By the spirits of trees in blessing
In the lands where the deeds end
Under stirruped shadows of saturn.

The waters of the orbs
Diffused across the universe
Jelled across pock marked hills
In whom all the gestures
Preserved as deep and still
Born of its own self
Like the fire in wooded glades
Bursting forth at touch of blades.

Magical rites of sat karma.

Spells for preserving the body
Spells for warding off wounds
Spells to procure prosperity
Spells to court adversity
Spells to remove sterility.

Here in the stillness
Silence piercing the powered end
But in the mirrored waters
Reflected a new journey begets.

____________________

MOKELE--- THE BEAST.

Guarding his place a troop of soldiers
Of red faces, darker hair, with silvery birch
Among berries, nuts, barks and the fruits
Together they will muster enough strength
To throttle men, snakes and the crocodiles
In lands trespassing onto the fields of grass
Sleeps Mokele among seven spirited guards.

His bed a couch of lotus flowers
Four pillars decorating the ivory tusks
An inhabitant of the Sita Tonka
Inodorous rally a master of concealment
He feeds on the yellow fruits
Of longa trees decked with metallic leaves
Or on tangled grown green honey melons.

Along lakesiders of dark deep waters of Dyka
His kingdom ruled over by a spiteful wisdom
Guarding the forests of rain amid onslaught
From ghouls, ghosts or unholy dark spirits
Corrupted dead hunters of the concealed sights
Smouldering unconsumed lovers of the past lives.

___________________

THE BEE.

The bee is drunk with honeyed dew
In flowered colours a metallic dance
A hitched stagger in shifting winds
A flutter of smile in all that morass.

Enterprises of hive now gone distant
Structures and stimulations now left behind
The queen and drones wishing gone astray
For a sip of freedom and a new start.

Aromatics grazed in a buzz of curse
A soft cradled sun in a warm burst
Rocking fragrance in the azured skies
In liquefied reflections of droning surge.