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adaptiveorgan.bsky.social
Éilís
@adaptiveorgan.bsky.social
14 followers 25 following 9 posts
Appalachian poet / cybernetician / philosophy enthusiast / mythology / Soto Zen
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adaptiveorgan.bsky.social
Part 3
Part III When I woke in the morning to cries for my help, I found a life devised before that day in tatters; Broken oaths and fraying threads of fate and time. With the keening of Pan and the gluttonous tears, we reached for wisdom's home, Miletus - a son of Praxis; Cold and voided silence spoke to wanting hearts. When the promise of Logos returned to the void, the cosmic wrath within our home was rising. Never dread our fated threads, we chose to flee our home. In that moment, we looked out to lightened skies, and Gaia's raging tears began to subside. Mercy's grace had found its way, but not for all. And so Helen, the daughter of Nemesis - the lash of Gaia's wrath against our usury - sailed to distant lands, her thread now spun. So I wake in the morning to cry for your help as Gaia's tears and rage from hollow spirits seek to end our dying dreams amidst our greed.
October 4, 2025 at 8:02 AM
adaptiveorgan.bsky.social
Part 2
Part II I awoke in the morning to cries for my help as waters breached our aging walls amidst the torrent; Down upon the slopes of Mitchell's sliding rocks. I was blessed to have grown in the pastoral ways, with rustic tunes and ballads near where Corydon lays; Pan, with pipes, then played a soothing song in aid. And his aid was our strength in the struggle for time, for time was crystal glass and shattered remnants; Precious, fleeting moments drowning sense and reason. With the waters a-gliding before us in hell, Emilia, moving family heirlooms, pleased Mnemosyne; Minds remember songs and wares with mother muses' boon. With our instincts intact we both fought for our home as Gaia's tears and rage were bringing down our mountain; Bedding, towels, clothes - I built a hopeless shield against her wrath. It was Phobos who struck at our blessings from Pan; The Fear of life consumes the groves and Gaia's bounty. Pan, a god so great - is dead, and waters rise with dread.
October 4, 2025 at 8:02 AM