I spoke to the clearing

Deep in the wood

Changelings live here and study

Their own movements

Reflections in the water 

Dancing and gazing 

Learning to behave 

Like friends and adversaries 

To those who seek to claim us

 

I spoke to the mirror 

Burrowed in the dead husk 

Of a fallen birch

Embossed with morning dew

My visage glistened 

In the warm glow of the rising sun

Holding up three fingers in jest

Challenging Empiricism in parallel

Purposefully driven to debunk theories of 

The great men who enter here to die

Indulge truths with soil caked

Beneath my claws

 

Pure and wild, mangled ribbons

Careen behind my body carelessly

While I sprint through wind

And snow

And storm 

Muck and glittering pools of algae