Winston Skerritt

He was a child at heart. His world wasn't rooted in the here and now. To him there was a past, a present and a future but these facets of time were fluid and ever changing. He believed that when he was in the right moment he could travel through time. Yes, time travel but only when he was in that moment. He had a ritual. From time to time. He would pick up his instrument and start to sing his songs and find himself in an altogether different realm. Starting at first tentatively, almost hesitating, embarrassed by his own way of melding with that moment. Well aware of the neighbours around him possibly listening, his voice and hands would fumble through the melodies and harmonies he was creating. Then suddenly, like the ever so tiny trickle of droplets from a April shower, the colors would appear. Slight, delicate slivers of pinks, yellows, reds danced around him like a well trained ballerina. Then the deep dark blues, greens and oranges took over the piece, leading the tantric-like manoeuvres around him, until they took root in his back an chest . This was an old friend to him, this was the Eagle's shadow. The Eagle's shadow was larger than life, bold vibrant translucent, it's colours resonating while it flapped it's wings, transporting him to that different realm. Magic dreams and fire were the Eagle shadow's inexhaustible well of power which propelled him. While moving through space and time the Eagle's shadow cradled him like the most precious thing, as if all the love that one could ever know would disappear if it didn't carry him with that of kind of care and attention, And yet, he couldn't help but be in awe of the shadow. Just who needed who was not clear. Were they two kindred spirits who just happened to find each other in the dark and barren wasteland of now? Or just two sides of the same coin? An entity who couldn't find that right and special kind mirror to see its self in all it's glory? Who knows.