And, sometimes, it rains.
I pick up the rain-soaked branch, examine it and hope that by doing so it becomes dry enough to begin. That kind of hope is futile when the weald wants rain. And, today the forest wants the rain. I chuck the piece of firewood to the pit and wander down one of the myriad paths branching out from one of the myriad firepits of the wode, all of which are the same firepits and yet all have their own accord.
(more…)
black stick twisted
of the night wood
shadow into shadow
turning right through
black stick twisted
rapping through brush
thorn track tapping
cracking them thick heads
come to me
run with me
kiss dark ever a
huntress moon
send me your earth
root me deep and
raise my arms high
to sun, to moon, to sky
pour rain down on me
wash me clean of stain
stonefields under flint
send me your earth
tonight
one foot in her river
one foot on her banks
waiting as they did
following old ways
for her rushflow to
pour across my legs
Another of my rune poems for a Elder Futhark rune selected at random. Today’s rune is dagaz, whose core meaning is “daybreak”, often interpreted to be a time or place of liminality, or conditions associated with imminent change or transformation. Cusps and thresholds are further examples of ideas that dagaz represents.
her embrace mine november
the only real remain
slender pale her fingers,
hair her ebon black
her crimson at my throat
here, only sleepwalking
dawns the midnight sun
only slowtalking brings light
whispers,
you cannot begin to know
i eigengrau glyph my skin
sun-pocked stained within
carve nails with needles
set quill to down & begin
mutterchant words forgot
shuttled off to fen to rot
leeched a heart of taint
spirit thorn reflect of elf-shot
so, this spellbound
sworn to the stone
so, this spellbound
ash, thorn and bone
i invite the night
to kiss and send
to drift my body
down her river flowing—
to gone to earth
in the every
to slip beneath
the fen in early
cross the finger
crest the blood
twitch at glisten
of toothsome blade
cut the stars
with hands flint
all fallen
turn our eyes
to the island
apples of the
reddest shade
she ivory waits
in every way
those days where words
lose all meaning in
a dizzy haze of dreaming
and fingers trace lines
of morning dew across
your pale skin under
the rise of the sun
slip to dark water
fatigued of dream
watching branches
play with sunlight
& shadow above to
drift, oh drifter
to eversleep