to sit still on
a windswept hill
call myself stone,
feast on her song from
under the mound
and slumber to
while away the ages
Category: writing
feast
On the drift
They never mention it in books, of course. The travel guides, I mean. They never tell you just how far you can, on average, walk in a pair of shoes before they start to fall apart. Of course, not all shoes are built the same and there’s going to be some variability in how well they will wear, but I’ve found you can maybe walk five hundred miles on fairly even asphalt in a pair of sneakers before you might want to keep your eyes open for your next pair. Boots meant for hiking? Maybe twice that, but you had better not rely on there being any tread to give you traction that last two hundred miles, give or take. Still, boots are my go-to, though they tend to weigh you down more at the end of the day than something more athletic.
Of course, you’re rarely given the choice of boots or sneakers while on the drift. More often than not, you have to accept what you come across and, obviously, the mileage on a worn pair of footwear is significantly lowered.
But beggars can’t be choosers, as my gran would say.
(more…)casting runes — 28oct25
mannaz by way of season
the year soon will die
we gather in the pale
wrapped in battle's arms,
buried within and
wait for the sun
to cross back
over the horizonA poem prompted by a randomly selected Elder Futhark rune.
Today’s rune is mannaz, a rune that translates to “man” in the sense of “humankind”. The rune is associated with family and the social order, and in trusting the intuitive process or seeing clearly — both from within and from without. Mannaz influences relationships of all kinds, including those of a romantic nature and encourages compassion, for oneself as well as for others.
Please visit my Elder Futhark pages at sceadugenga.com for additional interpretations of the runes based on multiple references and personal reflection.
lady waiting
we follow the same
wading both blood
& blades for a glimpse
of the lady waiting
at the end of the glade
& to receive her nightkisshole
dusk pours out of me
i am that lost hour
a brittle bone heart
carved in passing as
they drift to the next
hole in the sky,
a stone before the lakecasting runes — 24oct25
fehu fox fire, raven coal
first flurries pale
i offer crimson now
to keep all relations, mine
both safe and haleA 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.
rings
Photo by Nathan Dumlao on Unsplash drained, i pour inside
to sit within my pain
—don't speak
everything runs over
and i cannot drink
another drop
instead, arthritic fingers chase
wet rings on the hardwilderness
come the sluagh nights soonly
come they baying at your door
sickle scythe under nightmoon
a'reaving long before the dawn
