Mystic at World's End

All ends.
I wait.

A cloak of mystery cast about my shoulders
Tiny and wizened - on the inside a bear with
Brutish strength and brutal claw
Green fire beams from my small frame
Snaking around the lone traveler
Who holds up a hand to cover an eye

Why do they seek me? Why him?
My wisdom is not for fainthearted fools
You must have come very far to see this old mystic -
Tired seeker of truths sealed, quietly witnessing
The great paroxysms of Gaia.
The laplands are falling into disarray
Bolts and knots of space-time are breaking
And stars litter the ground - dirt that reeks of sulfur
Pools of light frosting a mud-cake
My dear traveler, you seek a refuge that doesn't exist
Here it is less safe - here you will learn to hate Knowledge
When you discover it can't save you
Atlantean wanderer, wayfarer fair
Your beauty can't hide your pain at my words.

Sit.
I only have tea to give you
Tea with cherries, rose petals, and chamomile for calm
And soup made from leeks, potatoes, and rosemary
You will sleep like the dead here in my stone cottage
And no wolves will cry your blood
Here the earth is shaking - rocking you until
She has lulled us all to sleep.

We will wait.
Until the ships no longer flee their moorings
And the sun rests his shrapnel head
And cats no longer scream the agony of the lost and damned.

Why do you cry on my knee, traveler?
Why do you, with a soldier's gait of confidence
Suddenly weep like a child?
You know the future is lost
That rain no longer cleanses but defiles
You know the acid drip of defeat when an enemy slashes your weak spot
You know that breathing is not the unconscious mechanism it once was.
And no, you haven't failed dear man,
Even though your quest brought you to to the core of evolution's science
And you neither moved nor swayed the lemming law.

If I hold you in my withered arms
And sit with you by the rolling liquid cradle of sea
Will you let my broken lullabye fill your empty eyes
And relieve the pressure in your warrior's heart
As we both say goodbye to the world we knew?

So let go of the loss of family
Of structure and civility
Of the need for friends and function
And the need to know too little or too much
Of the mysteries of love too short or too long.
Walk into an uncertain eternity of newness and right ways of being.

My traveler, well-fed and given his fill of rest and light,
Sees a dawn on impossible beauty and hope
Kisses my cheek, compliments my cooking
As one would a soft old grandmother in a storybook
And thanks me for his freedom though it was never mine to give.
As he slips away, I reassemble myself
Into the form I know best - atoms taking the shape
Of a woman just in prime - golden locks shimmering,
Body full of amorous promise, eyes shooting green and golden sparks,
Primordial rose blooming in this old forest.

Another traveler will come soon I am sure, to see this mystic
Ready for my Way.
I cloak myself in shadows.
I will wait.