The bird of paradise / sits on his perch. Its plumes, so radiant / call rainbows down to kneel and weep. / A king inside its nest of sleep / and gems; its open eyes a gradient / from fire to air to ice. / The bird of prey / in lazy spirals spins. Extreme in vertigo / it holds rock still - the world revolves / around its spot of singular resolve. / It shadows on the border far below / of night to day. / The songbird / never can be seen too well. Its mystery is most / of all three fowl. It revels and / delights in sound from throat unspanned. / No ruler, soldier - more a banshee ghost / that's always heard.

-- image by tomppa, lit by cthulu.  click here to download the file from the ACiD #60 August 1997 "Team"-themed pack --