Earthquake Weather

The rose-owl spreads her blood red wings;
We know too well the song she sings.
The scourge of cabin boys and kings,
They say.

And the raven of keys in the dreaming trees
She never shares the things she sees --
She's had her fill of destinies,
And that's why she flew away, oh,

Here in this wood where stories twine
Meet and part and recombine
Guard your eggshell heart, for the moon tells lies.
Follow the white hare like you're on a tether,
For this is bitter earthquake weather,
And never trust the tenor of the skies.

Is this a story that you know?
Are you sure that where it leads you
Is a place you want to go?
Do you really understand?
The moment that you leave the path,
The future's in your hands...

The fox of flowers hides her eyes,
So difficult to recognize,
A woman's skin her best disguise,
They say.

And the calico cat in the three-point hat
Who fought and slew the silver rat
Said 'we've had quite enough of that,'
And that's why she ran away, oh,

Here in this wood where stories twine
Meet and part and recombine
Guard your eggshell heart, for the moon tells lies.
Follow the white hare like you're on a tether,
For this is bitter earthquake weather,
And never trust the tenor of the skies.

The Princess of Storms is having a ball tonight.
She's painted clouds across the western sky.
The star-wolf cries, 'Get home before the morning's light,'
And only the fox in the flowered frock knows half the reasons why.

Is this a story that you trust?
Do you follow it because it's true,
Or just because you must?
Would you leave it if you could?
But you're bound to stay, for you've lost your way
In the twists of the Babylon Wood.

This story has been told before:
The broken arch, the secret door.
The king lies bleeding on the floor,
They say.

And the summer's queen in her gown of green,
She can't forget the things she's seen.
Her bloody hands just won't come clean,
And that's why she ran away, oh,

Here in this wood where stories twine
Meet and part and recombine
Guard your eggshell heart, for the moon tells lies.
Follow the white hare like you're on a tether,
For this is bitter earthquake weather,
And never trust the tenor of the skies, oh,

Here in this wood where futures die,
Foxes sing and flowers fly
Choose your way with care, for the rose owl lies.
Follow the shadow that the star-wolf casts,
For the storm is closing very fast,
And never trust the tenor of the skies, skies, skies,
No, never trust the tenor of these skies.


Written on: 2006-05-03. Seanan McGuire