the guardian of the grail

Last in a long line, guardian and protector, defending sacred Earth Water, but battle wound collector. Forgoing all pleasures, in this purity test, but injured inside and almost failing the quest. Waiting for the chosen one, to come heal this pain, but wounded in the groin, sacral screams complain.

Who does the grail serve, in its purest expression? Yes, the King and land are one, that's the answer to the question. Now take a look around and tell me what do you see, a barren wasteland from forgotten chivalry.

Poisoning of hearts and with it the land, driven by lust, true love they no longer understand. A Fire that must be fed, but won't be willingly met, insatiable must-haves that only shameful sorcery can now get. To See it so clearly unfolding, corruption on many levels, recklessly serving themselves, oh those dare devils.

Overwhelmed by emotions, anger and sadness, numbing and disassociation helps mask the madness. Stabbed so many times, no longer fit for duty, but in those dying thoughts of conquest, I was blessed by your beauty. Goddess of Avalon, all hail your grail, the perfect remedy for any true hero tale. I kept rising to my feet, only to be struck down again, Yes boys will be boys, but men must be men.

Oh Kingfisher, for you've truly mastered your art, spearing the Water, from such a head-start. Plunging in and then back up into the Sky, calming emotions, to true destiny you fly. No umming and ahhing, knowing in which moment to react, fulfilling your mission, while the mischievous distract. But your lance like beak is going to need some moral support here, so welcoming Alicorn and Narwhal to support this quest my dear.

No not an innocent fool, but childlike and playful at heart, magically moving through archetypes, each one plays its part. To truly feel everything, one must first be able to feel every thing, for from the deepest of wounds, rises the greatest of King. Purpose led, in service to the highest, quenching this thirst in the lands most driest.

The land of wailing women, Yes I heard your cries by the boiling river, my tears fell for many hours, no more Water could my eyes deliver. But deep in this moment, a seed of redemption was planted, a request from the Queen, my heart lovingly granted. This land they lay to waste, it's time to transform, into fertile Earth and from this crisis reborn.

For your honour, Yes I have always willingly fought, but these days it's battling in boardrooms by men who will never be bought. Some try to price your beauty, but your true essence they'll never understand, slumped around their square tables, too wounded to even stand.

Trying to control your course, but Water always finds a way, power washing souls with the most sacred of spray. Your pheromones will be released, touching and shifting behaviour, sensual transformation, welcomes within the savior. Not a moment to lose, but all in divine timing, many lifetimes in service for humanity's priming.

That magical touch of Merlin, who long left this plane of man, still guides some here, at one with the master plan. Within all of Nature, one can always find the remedy, elemental alchemy for this spiritual parody.

So to the spirit of so many, but to Kingfisher who clearly came, I saw Wagtail playing and the Goddess of many name. This symphony of Nature, all is one, but each with a part to play, in my heart is your home, you might leave, but you'll always stay.

These are my own insights, but a great beauty of life is that of perspective, so how might others respond to the spirit of Kingfisher, unbeknownst to this being the spirit they are receiving. How might they perceive it through their six senses. And that wound so deep that never seems to heal, I lay the sword on both shoulders, for a true knight you now kneel.