Mercury slows his catwalk as he
leaves Leo, and enters Virgo.
He stops before the stoop
of a house no one really notices;
guarded by lilac bushes, overgrown
and out of season, it is unmentionable.
He imagines how sweet this spot
must be, in the late Spring. He inhales
air that is not Now, and sees
a pine cone, the size of his palm,
sleeps on the wide door. He knocks it
once, and it opens, into a Library.
Built in wooden bookshelves
with glass doors and brass latches
border the fireplace.
A vase of dried lavender stands
on the mantle. There is no one
there, but someone was clearly
just there, as a globe spins
idly on its frame. A backgammon game
lays open on the surface of an old
trunk. Mercury thinks about the Way
material works. How it can create
pockets in time. Ambiance.
Flavors of meaning. Objects
hold power. Like books.
He walks towards the shelves to see
what pockets this Librarian keeps.
The Mythology is kept beside
the Astrology. The Philosophy
makes space beside the Poetry.
The reference books make home
together; the languages of body,
tongue and bush. He spies a handmade
book, in the Mythology section
and opens the spine. The smell
of vetiver and jasmine, wafts up
from the yellow pages. He reads...
"You happened once
upon a wood, its colors
quite compelling. Its eeriepeace, secrets did sheath
each rustle, magick, telling.
And there within the labyrinthof quiet creeks and leaves
you found a book, in woody
nook, within an old oak tree.
What made you reach inside the place? You'll never be
most sure. It is a case
of Time and Space; of Impulse
simply pure. And as it came
and laid to rest, inside
your balmy hand, you felt
one hot bead of sweat, slither,
as if by command. And suddenly,
a leaf aloft did penetrate
the page. The letters danced,
and you, entranced, upon
their parchment stage.
"BEWARE," they read,
"of Nonsense. Honor Self
interpretation. Let marinate
the words. Adhere
And within rippled scribblings
-the musings of a mind.
A song of Sun.
A story wrung.
Light sifted into lines."
Mercury stares at the page;
a bead of sweat, sliding
down his temple. It is hot
in August, with the forest
fires clouding the sky.
No need for the fireplace
…Mars stands in the doorway…
"You're back! Thank the Gxdz.
I was getting bored
of playing myself,"
Mars says, as he gestures
to the backgammon game.
"I see you found your library."
"What do you mean my libary?"
Mercury responds, puzzled.
"You know," Mars says as he thumbsthe globe,
"Vesta has got the Lighthouse,
you've got the Library.
That's just the Way it is."
"I don't know," Mercury
"You do this every
fucking year, Mercury."
Mars rolls his eyes, exasperated.
"I know its so cute, and human of you
to play the coquette, but come on.
You don't need to do that here.
This is your place."
"I don't recognize it."
"Every fucking year,"
Mars sighs,and plops down on the grey twill couch.
"Back in the day you called it
The Akash, okay." Mars gestures
with his hands above his head,
indicating a flashy headline.
"You invented it. It's where you keep
all the memories, past and future,
so you can learn from the experiences
of others, and apply them to all
the stupid little tricks you play."
"That sounds like me."
"It is you. This is all you,"
Mars saysas he waves his arms around.
"So what do I do now?"
"You read, and write, and listen.
And you play me in backgammon."
"Who wrote this one?"
Mercury asks, still holding the dusty handmade book in his palms.
"Jesus Christ, Mercury, YOU did.
Read it, or write it again, whatever.
Or write something new, and birth
new worlds, with your own imagination.
That's what this place is for,
Rumination and Bibliomancy."
"What’s Bibliomancy?" Mercury asks.
"You invented it. You ask
a question, open a book at random,
and let it speak to you."
"Yes, you are very mysterious.
Now come on, it’s your move…”