Journey Through the Years: Rat

A series of interpretations based on The Chinese Zodiac.

Two months ago I pressed a promise into words. While sitting besides myself I was struck with an idea cradling a wealth of creative pasture. My “Journey through the years” collection would be my opening into an interesting perspective. My enthusiasm was tested quickly, my tongue recoiled at the richness of this morsel of a muse, my keys stuttered into an inertia that has offered nothing but silence onto these pages. While the year has still so much to offer, I will shy away no longer. Lets list together the years.

There will be poetry, prose and open ended letters, however the year speaks best. I wont know what vessel each piece of this zodiac will fall in, but I will find a way to offer it forward.

For our first of the years, here is our first.

 

 

The Rat

Under the banner of allegiance, I can lead you where you need. With my back to the west I will welcome the new beginnings, we shall  forget the taste of hunger. In all the ways I championed to be the first I can offer sweetness into your season.

This will be ours to claim, the year that opens hope. I have sampled the soured pearls of the vine, believe me when I steer you safe from sour fruit. We can head fully into the onlookers and mingle as one of them, as though cut from common stock we can stoke our value from wherever there is voice. Steadily and stern, wary of the wayward few.

Point easterly, north and south and welcome the coming sun. Light needs very little to argue for its life. There is no head way to be made for rootless quadrilles, no slight of speak to bite into if we believe our motive just.  The sun speaks a language without refute. Light is light.

Our year yields a bouquet of the most flavour, I list my luck on the life of the Lilly. She warns me with her pail gaze when winter rounds the bend, then we are free find for ourselves shelter. If the world lives as colourful as this beautiful sentiment of golds, greens, and blues. Then dawn your suns, pastures and skies, to rally our lucky stars.

These will be the banners of our years. Coursing through the rivers of time.

B.N.