What an absurd undoing in the wake of Nothing!
I fell from my own root, toppling on a hillside next then into a well. And this was of my own doing, binding and unbinding my hopes through delusional dreams...makeshift in mischief, what I wanted with all my darling's love!
I would kill myself, yet would not die. I would live but in truth would be dead even for god, and my chest would be heavy, cluttered with messes, dainty too dainty to withstand all this empty weight that I had wished for.
I would be sad but excitedly elated! Happy but knowing all this around me to be but a brief breath in a fog lifting.
What I loved was gone, but my will frothed on the wrinkled waves from underneath, maintained its uneven mass, the dark waters which were hard as stone: dust in dust transparent pentagrams teaming together in unseen boundaries electrified!
But true that even with one eye I can see, even blind to things outside where things move unavoidably, it would be my spirit holding the Wind with my absent heart.
I am from above. And there is no above.
To undo the binding falls to waste, binding once again; loyal to our Father.
Aye, myself the Father now unbinding!
 |
| Odin's Alchemical Pot. |
These are the black figures of ravens in the sky. Sacred strikes sharply cutting the succeeding thick layers, that straddle the great space between God's left and right hemispheres glancing beyond.
Torch bearers transmitting the word.
They draw great circles in a sacred hearth. Turn the flame into "the right to Life".
Our eyes are the abyss that watches over the little things. Insuring their posterity across time and all ordeals.
Because, first, we are the tree, Irminsul, then, afterwards concomitantly we live in the white fox, the wolf and polar bear. Through out eternity, we burst into beauty from the flower bud burgeoning. We are like dead leaves that dogs who chase, trample.
The sparrow is my guide as I take up my sword. To thrash what disappears, falling in love again.
 |
| Raven Shadows. |
