• casting runes — 10jan26

    algiz
    footprints in fresh snow &
    skeleton trees coaled of gloaming
    owl calling between crow
    a pale scythe sweeps to reap

    A rune poem, based on an Elder Futhark rune selected at random.

    Today’s rune is algiz, which may mean either “elk” (there is some uncertainty if this is the case) or yew (Old Norse). It is associated with the Otherworld, protection/sanctuary, and with guardian spirits/fylgja. The unconscious mind is also sometimes associated with algiz.

    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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  • songlets — may faire

    It was a bit of a surprise when an old song I had written way back when the dinosaurs still roamed the earth came into my head yesterday and wouldn’t get out. Much to my amazement, when I pulled out the guitar, the chord progression and rough playing style came back to me almost instantly.

    For a bit of perspective, the song, “May Faire” has never been performed. So, it’s not like I spent uncountable hours rehearsing the song. I may have toyed around with it whenever I could not come up with something new for a few years, but it was not on the forefront of my thinking.

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    songlets — may faire

  • casting runes — 09jan26

    fehu
    "we want the world &
    we want it now..."

    rip out the barbed wire fences,
    carry swine to the edge
    of the world &
    throw them all down

    A 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.


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  • Half-penny thoughts — 09jan26

    Do you ever get that itchy feeling that you ought to be up to something but cannot quite put your finger on what, exactly, that something might be aside from some nebulous notions that flutter like butterflies in the summer sun inside the space most folks store their brains?

    Yeah. That’s the prevailing feeling I am getting these past few days: an Ought which is disappointingly lacking in Substance.

    Maybe it is just my rebellious nature itching to get out and do something in light of the recent events that have taken place in my hometown (I moderate my activism to protect my family, but would act up significantly more if I had only myself to be concerned about).

    But that does not feel quite right. If I got involved with current activist events, I’d probably sign up to marshal more than agitate anyway. That feels closer to the heart of this indecipherable vibe I am feeling. Spirit/soul work of some sort, perhaps?

    Well, let’s not worry about solving my conundrum. It’s very likely something I need to get at myself without external help. That’s the kind of vibe it is; internal stuff.

    However, going back to the original thought at the head of this post:

    How often do you feel you ought to be doing something, but cannot think of what that something might be? Frequently? Never?

    And, if you do, are you always able to eventually resolve what that thing is? Or do you just let it go and hope that it comes to you a little clearer after you give it room to breathe?

    Do you ever get vague hints from wherever vague hints are born? Or does the realization come directly/not at all?


  • waiting to begin

    awake to ear ringing
    & litmus tests papering
    our present lavender

    faint, the voice calling
    so i resthead on the ley
    hoping for to clarion that
    lost in babble on & on

    a need to root in & stone
    branching out & to oak
    careless as a whisper
    on the wind

    i wait for them in
    forgotten corridors
    waiting to begin

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    waiting to begin