as I sat waiting for Halloween Night
I wait in the bright blinking spaces. Copy to me give. Text that I can bend into document. Without, I am waiting.
In my pretty costume, I want to be Elizabeth Bennett when I grow up. Green and gold and lace fan behind which I hide yawns as Mr. Collin’s yammers on at our noon meeting about the new structure of the company. Blah. Blah. Blah. It’s Halloween.
Last year, All Eve of the Hollow time was a panoply of activation.
Costumes. A maze in the downstairs conference rooms. Offices decorated in
magnificent theme. A thronging of morale.
This year is quiet. Subdued. As the area shifts in the course of one day
from 90 degree summer to cold winter rains. Hazy shades of winter (Smoking
Mirror in ascendance, the Plumed Serpent has gone away) as I opt for an
umbrella rather than a parasol. Wear ugly shoes to get to work, because my
matching shoes are too pretty fine for such wet and ugly. Although, no
worries, once in cubicles confined, I changed to the appropriate shod.
Accessories make the outfit.
I did get to see Gina at lunch, in her guise as Lady de Winter, sparkling and tinkling with shards of ice. Soft folding, swirl blue dress with hard edges. Sometime, we will have to have her dress as winter with myself as dark Persephone as she moves from stolen wife to Crone Hecate. Black spring with cold jewel flowers. I suppose Karen as Eris is out of season. Though to complete it, perhaps she should dress as water with the sleeves in reflective sparkling flow. Just as long as we don’t die her hair blue. It goes in, but it doesn’t come out. Hmm…although for some reason, I want Gina as winter to have green hair with daisies in it. Isn’t that odd?
Now I see into a glass, but darkly and then I shall see face to face. The Aztecs saw the world as a smoking mirror. As a hazy piece of obsidian. And for all that the Plumed Serpent was one of the world’s creators, so was tricky Smoking Mirror.
And now we sit in the midst of a day when the world sits in equal parts.
Well, not the equinox. But, a celebration of same. The eve when the line
between the worlds loosens and the glass reflects, darkly, smoky, plumed
serpents and gaze.
The world serpent. “The world dreams itself and the sun rises to create a
new day. The sun and the water play upon the back of the rainbow serpent our
sister, in whose dream we dwell.”
How we gaze as we assume costumes of color and makeup and mask to guise our
natures into new. Be other. Plumb depths. Give tricks and treats in equal
share. Shed skin. Grow new. Go to parties in celebration of same.
But for now waiting. In the white spaces between. The connecting maze
cubes. Bright. Blinking. Go.