WITHIN THE REALM

She lay barefoot within the circle. Not asleep, but not awake either. She lay within the realm, feet touching dead leaves, hands drifting through the stars of heaven. She was the dancer of the prophet, the songstress of the poet. She lay open to the tangle of the heartbeats and the breath of men as she hummed towards the world within the circle, within the gate. She moved her toes through the cool dead crisp leaves, and murmured. Stones and bones rattled her back, trees swept in the breeze, and she smiled when she heard a rabbit scream - long and drawn out as it fulfilled its life. She moved in half slumber, starting the chant of the binding of names, the binding of men, as she lay within the circle, within the realm, amongst the dead fallen leaves.