Legendary Trolls: Oscar’s Interludes

i.

my heart splits into six fragments.

and the king is the first to rise.

ii.

he gazes out at all the birds that

comprise his myth and his monarchy.

iii.

feathers descend like snowflakes while whales

salute and serenade with blowhole trumpets.

iv.

he breathes life and sustainability

into the rest of the kingdom.

 

v.

an outcast recognizes an outcast. it’s in

the eyes, the tears, the prophecies, and the poetry.

Oscar’s crown / The Evergreen Echo

 vi.

the forest is a beard of bark and branches,

a knothole nightmare ensnaring lost dreams.

 vii.

 a myth is foretold in feathers and fae

as magic rises from the churned soil.

 viii.

he was made from the earth with

 open breath of past and future.

 

ix.

he is the bridge between two worlds.

the birds and the islanders are tethered to him.

 

x.

 the king rises from the woods he is born into.

he learns from the ancients who paved his way.

xi.

his heart is landlocked in branches and bark,

hidden behind a dark thicket of brier and black.

 

xii.

he wanders the foothills of towering

mountainsides that end in violent landslides.

 

xiii.

the birds circle around him in a feathered halo,

as the trees surround him like dark ruins.

 

xiv.

 he wears a crown forged from broken villages,

for late wanderers and early deserters.

xv.

 a storm of outcasts seek asylum

and crave solace in celestial sanctuary.

xvi.

 a throne is crafted from broken debris

seeking to be whole, to govern, to start again.

 

xvii.

we all find our way through the forest

until we find one worth staying in.

 

xviii.

an island can be a kingdom,

more than the rest of the world ever could.

 

xix.

 the world is a giant no man’s land. birds quiet

their ballads. whales hush their trumpet calls.

 

xx.

 the rest of us seek to sharpen our gifts,

our talents without sharpening our talons.

xxi.

i travelled across new sights and new sounds

through a hidden kingdom of feathered mysteries.

 

xxii.

 it took a carriage stampeding, a sailboat soaring

 and a warship charging the horizon to get to you.

 

xxiii.

 the mountains surrendered, the waves formed a parade

inviting me further into the sea’s serenade.

 

xxiv.

 the clouds opened themselves up to me like a blooming,

bringing me higher into the milky atmosphere.

 

xxv.

 it took the sword of my mind, the shield of my heart,

and the arrows of my soul to find the courage to set out.

xxvi.

 i surveyed the green glade and tracked the path of lost

patrons until i entered the threshold of your kingdom.

 

xxvii.

 i saw the mountain you made for me,

and the tower your body built for thee.

 

xxviii

 you formed a haven for birds who lost

their faith and their feathers along the way.

 

xxix.

 through flight and through famine, you offer

sanctuary for those who need it the most.

 xxx.

 you embraced me, swaddled me

in an abundance of nature’s woven tapestry.

xxxi.

you wore a crown of kingdoms.

you draped a beard of bark and branches.

xxxii.

you sat on a throne of living wood,

behind your eyes of charcoal.

Oscar the Bird King / The Evergreen Echo

xxxiii.

how long have you been here?

watching over this corner of the green?

xxxiv.

i have been here when these woods were just a sapling.

i watered it. i talked to it. and it grew into a homeland.

xxxv.

why not leave and live among the people?

i asked shrewdly with plain eyes.

xxxvi.

i already lived among the people

and now the people live among me.

 

xxxvii. 

those who want to see me choose

to make me a part of their world.

 

xxxviii. 

they appear in a fleeting memory,

a passing remedy, he replied with solemn eyes.

 

xxxix. 

why did you leave behind mankind

in exchange for the forest’s vow? i asked.

 

xl. 

i lived among them for far too long until

a flickering voice convinced me to leave.

xli.

who was that person that helped

you find the courage? i asked.

 

xlii.

 me. you should always let

your voice be the loudest in the air.

 

xliii.

 or it will get drowned out by the

voices of the dark and the deep.

 

xliv.

 the sky never gets too bright here.

we thrive from the stillness of the shadows.

 

xlv.

 the kingdom opens itself to outcasts and misfits,

to those searching for what was never offered before.

xlvi.

but the birds are free to fly and leave while you

are forced to stay and remain tethered to the ground?

 

xlvii.

 the birds are meant to move on. why clip

their wings again when the world does that enough?

 

xlviii.

 the birds may have crowned me king,

but this kingdom belongs to them.

 

xlix.

 the talismans, crafted from nature’s bounty,

protect us all from the strangers of other worlds.

 

Trinkets / The Evergreen Echo

l.

shells, mushrooms, feathers, pinecones, trinkets

from all over, run abundantly through this wasteland.

li.

i didn’t want to leave. but there were other kingdoms,

other personas, other fragments, to restore within myself.

 

lii.

 i wanted to be inducted into his kingdom, but my nomadic

heart still thirsts for more than he could offer.

 

liii.

 we will always have the sound he chanted.

we will always have the sound i echoed.

 

liv.

 i retracked the mountains, the waves, and the clouds,

left to wonder what, if anything was real.

 

lv.

 and i heard a little voice call out to me.

maybe, just maybe, that little voice was mine. 

Birdhouses stacked near Oscar the Bird King / The Evergreen Echo