The Book of Riddles

The Book of Riddles

Soft f lesh Wet and slick Yeilding under gentle f ingers Stone f lesh Hard and brittle Rough hands cradle A head A hand A cleft A death A mountain rising from stone A cauldera plunging deep Flameless, heatless A black eruption over its rim

Blood without death Ever complaining A fool I make of thee with a kiss A white eye, blind But gifting of sight Slowly closing Opening A maiden’s wink I laugh without voice I run without feet I give life without womb I take life without sword

Mountains risen and fallen in an instant A crown of white Gentle as a lover’s touch As brutal as an invading army A greeting A parting A crash Tie breaker King maker Life taker Want makes her A winding river Dry as stone Carrying death in a kiss

The f irst is bold The second slays The third is deadly The fourth condems The f ifth is brave The f irst eats but never drinks The second trembles but frights The third whispers but never speaks The fourth runs but never walks I Destroy weapons Penetrate armor Consume wealth Crumble crowns

A wedge A lever A machine In two parts Tossed haphazard like grains of rice strewn across a table top Flickering and winking like candles in a breeze A thousand eyes glittering in the night Always watching Seeing all I am cherished inside But feared when I escape

One is a celebration Five is a sigh of relief Twenty is responsibility Fifty is a mark of respect One hundred is a miracle Grey soldiers standing at attention Named but faceless, every one In neat rows all together And yet terribly alone Worth nothing alone Taking the lead makes no differnece But trailing behind becomes worth a great deal

Red and brittle I take a plunge And emerge gleaming, straight backed, and strong I am two faced but you’ll never catch me in a lie I bribe unscrupulous men but you’ll never blame me for it I reward those who deserve it, and those who do not I play favorites through no fault of my own A forking path Night to day A trailing cry Kings and peasants f ind me, all

Towering oaks and nature’s beasts both to me fall All roads unfailingly lead to me A constant companion to eternity Feared more than death and pain Possessed by the dead Needed by the rich Desired by the contented Ever present Ever needed Never noticed Until it is gone

I must be given To be kept A blind man who grins widest of all He knows something you don’t But will Whispers and murmurs Pushing, shoving, pulling A bite, a sting Unseen

A frantic dance Wild and dangerous Beautiful and vital Beloved in its stone prison Feared when running free Silent observers Ever watching But never judging Witnesses to all the sins and secrets That happen in the dark To name it is to defeat it