this, i foxfoot mine
under the flint
waiting on rime
this, old ways skein
tangled up on me
here, mosshaired stone
under the rain
waiting on time
here, poppet a pocket
tangled up on line
Author: michael raven
on the ridge
Reading Progress — 11nov25
Photo by Peter Herrmann on Unsplash Well, golly. It appears that I got ahead of myself.
After putting down my phone and picking up a book or my ebook device in early September, I set for myself what I thought to be a modest reading goal to pull me away from doomscrolling and videogaming: twenty books to read in the last quarter of 2025. That’s roughly a book and a half a week. Nothing strenuous, but nothing to sneeze at. There are plenty of folks out there who might (might!) get in twenty books the entire year on a good year. I should know, I lapsed into being one of those kinds of readers until recently. Others might achieve that goal after a decade. Or more.
(more…)casting runes — 11nov25
hagalaz this crashing down
to shatter against rock
to freeze all ties
...to break
some storms
go that way;
not all can bring
forth gentle rainA rune poem, based on an Elder Futhark rune selected at random.
Today’s rune is hagalaz, which has a core meaning of “hail”, which was associated with potential, transformation, renewal and change; hail is imagined a seed from which change will arise. Hagalaz is also seen as representative of things beyond our control: a clash between fire and ice.
Please visit my Elder Futhark pages at sceadugenga.com for additional interpretations of the runes based on multiple references and personal reflection.
bondage
seeking the heartwood,
i throw off the burden
of toxic positivity and
viral negativity
i cut all flesh to bone
this is not a love song.
gaining the blind
securing the deaf
embracing the empty
i scratch
my rune bones black
all else is bondagehungers the wind
i have drawn lines
along the trees
dreaming worlds within,
time to set aside fevers--
we swing heartache
for her hills hollow
but now there is
naught left but
for the dying
willow willow
hungers the winter windsreads | Ghost Story, Peter Straub
This book is a reread, but might as well have been a virgin read for the length of time since I last read it and the various growth potential of the reader since that time.
When I was younger, we often spent a lot of time up at my aunt’s lakewoods cabin in Northern Minnesota. So did plenty of other aunts and uncles, their friends and otherwise. Someone along the way, someone left a copy of Ghost Story behind, which was put onto a rickety suspended shelf for such books left behind, kind of our family “little library”: take a book/leave a book mentality. I was a budding Stephen King fan at the time (up until I got into King, I read plenty of other juvenile-focused horror, and King was one of my first forays into adult horror, along with Lovecraft). This book was on that shelf, next to Flowers in the Attic (VC Andrews, which had been read as well).
(more…)casting runes — 09nov25
fehu i plant my ash
on the windswept—
lichen, mycelium, moss,
the rolling hummocks
littered in stone
overcast, the skies
weigh down
what riches i have
to shareA poem prompted by a randomly selected Elder Futhark rune.
Today’s rune is fehu, which has a core meaning of “cattle” or a more generalized “livestock”, which was a representation of personal wealth or earned prosperity. Sometimes luck played a role. Wealth and prosperity was valued, but was looked down upon when material accumulation appeared to be excessive, greedy, miserly or turned to hoarding, especially when those around you were lacking.
Please visit my Elder Futhark pages at sceadugenga.com for additional interpretations of the runes based on multiple references and personal reflection.
bone dreaming
bone dreaming
we rattle under ash
crisp as leaves
kissed of rime
bone dreaming
we slip that streaming
to rest at sieidi
longing of the everlasttossing a rune — 07nov25
ansuz burned onto
my heartwood black
hung over meltwaters
the old gals sing spears
to the blindA poem prompted by a randomly selected Elder Futhark rune.
Today’s rune is ansuz, which has a core meaning “a god” (intended to be Odin), “mouth” or “breath”. Odin is representative of many, many things… in this case, ansuz is most representative of the mouth/breath (speech) that gives life to poetry, magic, song, language, and spirit — largely inseparable in the Viking worldview — and Odin is considered the supreme master of these intertwined concepts. By way of the Anglo-Saxon Futhorc, the rune is named æsc, which is translated to “ash”, a tree associated with Odin and is representative of resilience and strength.
Please visit my Elder Futhark pages at sceadugenga.com for additional interpretations of the runes based on multiple references and personal reflection.
nonsense verse
we cut away the fat:
there is sun, there is moon
there are seasons and stars
there is above and below
and there might even be here
there are stones and plants
the living and the dead
what more can
you really desire?
