sometimes the then seems
are not really any things at all
but other seems unconsidered
that beckon with their call, so
now back to the la-z-boy and
the rocking and the nights, dreaming
new oaks from acorns alone
but no, no, don't let seams show
keep all those seems deep inside
she waves at the threshold
waiting to close the door
until i finally show sense & cross
over to her stone winters within
A poem prompted by a randomly selected Elder Futhark rune.
Today’s rune is dagaz, which has been translated as “daybreak”, that transitional moment between night and day. By extension, it might also be interpreted as “twilight” and is representative of liminality, transformation, the space between worlds, and suggests walking in both the material world and otherworld.
Please visit my Elder Futhark pages at sceadugenga.com for additional interpretations of the runes based on multiple references and personal reflection.
turning towards headstones
these broken days we, under
the curtains green falling
& lost in the dream
stolen kiss on the cheek
in the nip of first frost
woolen the warmth
given your arms around
another nordeast night
chasing phantoms
through busy streets
hands in hand
feet never touching ground
as the crowds gather 'round
for the samhain fires
would the i could
i would be larking
there still
i wonder if a part if me
is lost there on the path
seeking blaze left behind
either to or away from
recalling both nervous
and tremble hands
she wore over coffee
at the allnight café
cigarettes smoke
staining the dim lights
as stained as either's
reputations unsaved
i wonder if this dying
had any point at all
save for another branch
lost on a meandering path
leading towards
redemption or none
dead or not dead
does it matter?
these are ghosts lost
to the mists of time
filling in the wake behind
i drank river water
tasting of whiskey
so very long ago
with autumn leaves
i skitter towards my
stone twilight grey
these words are just echoes,
pebbles thrown to the pond—
brave sakura riding the ripples
to go back to mud
root in and ashen
rest awhile & slumber
winter in the long
dark come
this scrimshawed heart
slenders back to
a lingering song
playing on the wire
in the wind
all daggers deserved,
crimson drifts to drain
to spell you a song
of under dusk breath
of under branched canopy
we tanglelimbs wending
through winds these twine
riding old ash tonight
A 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.
Please visit my Elder Futhark pages at sceadugenga.com for additional interpretations of the runes based on multiple references and personal reflection.