Marrowbone town is as ancient and orphic as the memory is intimate with secrets.
Light is the same at Marrowbone in the morning as it is at dusk, when the sun and star shine, upon silver sheen fog, reach the eyes.
One will find many treasures and visions among the souls of townsfolk here. You will find them waiting for you among the thorned Honey Locust trees, the sun dusted fields of thistle and vines, the river ferry whose secrets are told slowly and the abandoned places of Marrowbone town. These are the truest places when the moon is still and dreams are carried by dark wings of starlings.
Each season bears the weight of a dark sleep and rebirth called the Great Turning.
This is when the sibylline story is shared with spirit among Marrowbone townsfolk.
The story was carved deep, inside, from the dawning by the hand of the alpha light and the first warrior.
All men, women and children have the “knowing” in Marrowbone.
Old man Caedmon says to me “it was never taken from us, just forgotten”
This story is best shared through the eyes and thoughts of two special young souls in Marrowbone, Angel Blue and Einar.
All townsfolk in Marrowbone live in joyful light and storm, doing what they do best; creating thought for the highest good of all.
This gift was the beginning.
The gift could never be destroyed or taken. It could only be hidden…
Angel Blue loved to form thoughts in the forests, creeks, winter moon autumns and abandoned houses.
Angel Blue was from the one before the beginning. She is silver light, deepest fire and the most potent thought creator Einar has ever known.
The dark-eyed Junco tinkles a silvery song from a high loft as it watches her presence slowly move close to old man Caedmon’s barn.
Einar is waiting, with silence, shadow clad and cedar smoke.
The shadows that envelop Einar are primal, fierce and protective.
Einar is a watcher and grand seer from the first warrior. His lineage was boldly carved in a secret storm; a watcher in the dark was his seal.
His gift as a seer was to protect Angel Blue in her time of Vision.
This bond was silent but forceful between them.
Even when she lay upon the feathered mattress, listening to the metallic whistle of the midnight train through a dreaming Marrowbone, did she feel Einar’s watching.
He is always the protector of the dream vision, like an invisible silk web shrouding her moonlit flesh.
Angel Blue and Einar walk together with moments bathed in charcoal star skies, smoke scented woodlands, and abandoned places in the season of knowing.
A Loggerhead shrike glides swift through the aether of falling dusk, capturing a field mouse in its talons.