what needs a name
needs a name
in the hand on the ear
and that lipbrushed fur
venus kissed, do tell
what needs a name
needs a name
in the hand on the ear
what needs
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what needs
casting runes — 28may26
jera a cylinder in turning filling the empty nights with harvest hours small the spirits lean all shadow before reaping the dawn
A poem prompted by a randomly selected Elder Futhark rune.
Today’s rune is jera. Jera is translated as “year”, and has also been translated as “harvest”. This rune is representative of cycles, the “wheel of the year”, the union of opposites (implied by the summer half of the year ending, winter half of the year beginning), balance, as well as cause/effect relationships.
Please visit my Elder Futhark pages at sceadugenga.com for additional interpretations of the runes based on multiple references and personal reflection.
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casting runes — 28may26
VMH: Ep 7.2 “Named True” is live
start readingVengeance, My Heart The Argument:
Death comes to visit.
Missing cloves.
Arguments and recriminations.Episode 7.2: Named True from Vengeance, My Heart (episode link), my serialized Sepulchral-Gothic Western novel, is now live at ravensweald.art.
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VMH: Ep 7.2 “Named True” is live
casting runes — 26may26
eihwaz this mortal coil slipped between mists we will meet again within the otherside this knot lingers still
A rune poem, based on an Elder Futhark rune selected at random.
Today’s rune is eihwaz, it’s name meaning “yew”, is a rune of change and transformation. It represents the cycle of life/death/rebirth and is symbolic of the axis mundi (the world tree). The yew is envisioned as a path towards both the underworld and the heavenly realms. Eihwaz is frequently associated both with poison and protection as part of its perceived dual nature.
Please visit my Elder Futhark pages at sceadugenga.com for additional interpretations of the runes based on multiple references and personal reflection.
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casting runes — 26may26
VMH: Ep 7.1 “Named True” is live
start readingVengeance, My Heart The Argument:
Mirrors, mirror.
Of Lilys and remains.
A close call.Episode 7.1: Named True from Vengeance, My Heart (episode link), my serialized Sepulchral-Gothic Western novel, is now live at ravensweald.art.
Subscribe to the serial via email
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(more…)tagged:
ash & thorn, crossroads, episodic fiction, gothic western, ravensweald.art, sepulchral western, serialized fiction, vengeance my heart, web novel, weird westfiled under:
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VMH: Ep 7.1 “Named True” is live
thresholds
i rust stain the red
under cirrus skies
slipping umbral to gloam—
faces all turn awayTo like, click comments or:
thresholds
white noise
the words turn to blur
every voice fades
to white noise
dew wet trousers on
an early kneeling morn
chapped lips imagine
kisses in chill mists
dreams are made of
morns made like these—
the smell of apples
drifting inTo like, click comments or:
white noise
Letting go
As prepared for the inevitability of such things when your vet calls you up with blood work results and does a lot of heavy sighing during the conversation, it is never easy to accept that a pet is dying. And probably faster than you had hoped.
One of my Maine Coons, Fennekin (named after the Pokémon), has been ill for a while. She was borderline having kidney issues a year ago, but it rapidly progressed until she was showing the beginnings of kidney failure just a month or so ago.
She was promptly put on a special diet with additive to help her kidneys. We thought we saw improvement, even. Until we didn’t.
Last night, she refused her dinner. And treats. She loves treats and loves that she’s been getting stinky, fishy, wet food while the others get kibble. She skipped breakfast and went into a space away from everyone. She refused lunch.
We’re taking her into the vet today, not expecting to bring her home. For thousands of dollars, they can keep her alive. Maybe a month or two. Maybe as little as three days. But her death is inevitable. And soon.
There are people who will spend their life savings keeping a pet alive without once questioning if the pet has any meaningful quality of life while they are kept alive on infusions and tubes. I’m not that kind of person, which will upset some readers. I ask myself, as miserable as she looks right now, if Fenn would thank me for the ordeal or if she might be happier without feeling so damned sick.
And it makes me a little ill myself to know that I have pretty much made the decision that if they can’t keep her alive for the long weekend through some magic so everyone can say goodbye, I’m okay with letting her go.
The appointment is in less than 90 minutes. We’ll see what they say then, but the prognosis from my perspective is not good. She looks like she feels horrible.
What I will miss most is her trilling as she follows me around, wanting me to talk to her, give her a scratch under the chin.
better days To like, click comments or:
Letting go
echo dream
i can't help but wonder
when you talk,
if you talk to me
or if that is just dream
speaking past soft veils
perhaps it is just a dream
echoing another dream
in which there is nothing
but a dream left for
anything to sayTo like, click comments or:
echo dream
Receptions
From deep within the weald, there is a longing to sit with, to learn from.
Go fly to the mountain, raven, sit on the stone-filled heath. Become the fells, be come the high places. Better yet: sink down into the underwood deadfall and loam, wrap roots around and tangle hair with moss, lichen the bone. Grow antlers. Become the stone. Who needs these wings?
They come. They receive. They go.
Grow to flint, knapped and worn. Become the old trunk they come sit with and exchange, clear off scalloped white fungus as they while away until there is nothing more. They take that away too, and cast away when bored. But that is the way.
When you are not looking, comes the wolf. Not just a wolf. The winter wolf.
And being stone will then be the whiling away while the longing melts of winter.
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Receptions
