There is no preamble when they arrive, not even the fluttering of wings to announce their presence. Just:
You are a fool, Raven says.
(more…)Tag: campfires
Campfire Sessions — 17apr25
Photo by Ville Palmu on Unsplash Campfire Sessions — 13apr25
Photo by Ville Palmu on Unsplash No campfires for me last night, I’d decided. Instead, I elected to wander away into the day that followed flame as I left the camp behind: Sun blazing on one side, Moon cool and pale on the other. Maple’s yellow leaves fell mystic around me, an autumn kind of sakura celebration lacking only the plum wine for the stream ran beside me, falling over stones and breaking white the reflection of the sky.
(more…)back to sit
Photo by Suzanne Rushton on Unsplash somewhere along the path
i somehow lost my way
that was what
old craggy guy
was trying to say, just
get back to the sit...
an expert leading
by exampleTo Stone
Photo by Wes Hicks on Unsplash You and I, we hung moon in arctic turquoise skies above the gravestones of friends buried in the Evernight. For remembrance, certainly, but also for that our own souls could the words to move on. To find our smoke and ride the starry road North to Stone.
Ancestors, they came to our Gathering Flame; those sitting as were wont to sit, those standing as were wont of standing. All sought the Strange dancing in the flames, be they feather, flesh or fur. Even the alder man came, his sap reddening ran.
And they spoke at length for fourteen days of gloam, each giving words to carry to the below or for how they must be brought. We gathered and, just before the dawn meant for leaving shores, all gathered and sang to welcome the sun adorned.
One step, then four, we entered wearing our horns and gave to follow the floes, leaving the snowfells behind. And Ancestors? They watched, forlorn, each wishing in their own way our safe journey on to Stone.
A mercuric lake
Photo by Ville Palmu on Unsplash I have many thoughts trapped inside my head. I cannot free them because they are thoughts without words to go with them, or the words that might go with them are inadequate to express those thoughts. Trying to express those thoughts feels too much like, as Alan Watts would have put it, trying to bite my own teeth.
If I managed to construct those thoughts into something that could be understood, if I could find the words and unstop this mute mouth — would anyone read them anyway? I mean, really read. I am fairly certain that they cannot be words that can be heard, so I do not dare speak.
I have for a very long time tried to personally touch these thoughts, hoping to better understand people who struggled in much the same way as I do now to express inexpressible thoughts. Now that I am on that path, I understand their struggle. There are no words, we need a new language altogether to get at the words needed to explain explain explain. Maybe, I think these thoughts can only be expressed sideways, with a slipstream sense.
After I slip into the wilds, do you think you could find me? Would you want to?
The buzz of insects over a mercuric lake…
