just as daybreak came walking across the region
while cloudshadows swept onwards ― observing.

And the world set ― in Dumbness; uncountable scars
where excessive junk searched of ways to be charming…

(Myself? Wandered free there the dew never dries
and all of Life’s paths showed forward to Odin.)

We vaguely remembered safety and honestly owned excess,
real life in beauteous honour ― a longing home to Asgard;
to grow well rooted value only Goodness could bid Us.

(Obeying my steps. Leaving the bare ground opened traces
in time before the first snow will return as a threat.)

Skillfully, surely all too well, Truth answers:

“Tear down any seeming solace ― it is venality: Death.

We have foes to correct; to pay our plight, in our sight,
for naught stand more fairer grown than killed lies in life.

Let shatter the nightmareyears. Give Truth to hate and cure.

BE HONOURED! MIGHT AND GLADNESS! SET YOUR LIFE’S ROOT!”