WHERE THE DEW NEVER DRIES

It was in a time before silence was altered ―

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!”


THERE THE DEW NEVER DRIES

SUNBRANCHES

Firmly risted in hidden recess until Ragnarok.

Fetching yet another unlovable stretch to love:

Branches in wait here, all too dead calm
before, as foretold is; We can gather to the mould
as love’s owned and dying breed: Caught,
while sea mist rises inside the birchleafrains

The leaves down in the slush dampen hard steps.

The lacking; root to crown, severely drains this world.

But, wilted flowers recall that they won against darkness!

WE ARE HERE! CAN NOT LOVE OR BE LOVED ENOUGH!

Welcome, to our rich camp’s unity
there Sun will hand us his friendliest reverence
from forestkissed skies freed from uncertainty
inside of dusk and dawn, dear Light of excellence!

VALUABLE LIFE FINDS THE HIGHEST FUTURE,
SO HASTEN ― STRENGTHEN NEW DAYS ON THE PATH!

RIGHTS TO CLARITY ARE THE WORLDS’ SOLVED ANSWER:

THE GODS WILL REMAIN!
SUNBRANCHES

REMOUNT

We know, know how a shattered thought bit us:
That to life dragged will here be thrashed.

(Now owning the last torn down lifeline.)

Weakening down, defying that weakness is death.

These are tangled years
where the wishing doesn’t reach down to matter;
wrecked frozen unripe buds
where needs don’t manage to reach up to any will
from the fallow; the growth lands,
there lust rarely tricks itself grown above loathing.

(In front of hurtfilled opened eyes to realities
burns a cold indifference down inside; through us:
Dumbness of Worlds in all its swathing wholeness.)

Viet, the new time, taking year after year,
where blow upon blow sets the boundaries of the helpless
and harshly hits any survival with swath after swath

(This world where thinking has stayed in death
and the rotten parts of wholeness are to be cured;
leaving a new unity worthy of our lives.)

Righting here this world’s flat and foul opinions.

Life, awaken to be sharply lived with the Rights
teach that all rot inside came from outer affront
and finding no value in murdered sufficiency

Shaping Midgard’s holds and leaving all emptiness.

REMOUNT.

RECOVER LIFE’S HEART

Guarding the hours altering; their changes: My prey.

Fogcovered ― AWAKENED!, rising ― Dawning now lifts itself
swiftly roused, opened in the lightsoaked halls in the forest

and all night is missing ― for a moment, ― again.

(Worries bite ― a burden lingers on.)

Wandering up all the Path’s aged, burnt in, yearsteps,

standing upon flowering field islands,
leaving by my withering footprints

and catching torn thoughts ― when spoken my heart clears, ― to remain.

Life’s heart, our hearts; are born matured.

So return, come you who listened, know the qualm cleanhearted;
on hate’s and gladness terms here allowed to tenderly intertwine
with the lighthearted ― maybe sorrowfilled, enlightened Sun’s routes

I am proven ― when your shivers go cold, ― if you wake up.RECOVER LIFE_S HEART

FORDABLE PLACE

Blowing down powdersnow from a pine branch
onto cold, light grey shadows; in the wilderness

(The verge of the ground a reminder of Our gathering.)

Gently gave Water and Wind Life to the cloud
meanwhile snow journeyed in a concern to remain
upon forest hills stones; to be glanced towards the edge

(Finding Now in the stillness,
in a fleeing movement:
All gone and awaiting time.)

Somewhat hesitant break runnels through the ice,
somewhat insolent, asking: When do We reach Home?

This so grievously lovable clarity’s Winterglade
is surely leaving its Answers in the abstruse
alike streamcaressed stones over the creeks have stayed

in the frozen years

Demand our new freedom, as all other time is stricken.FORDABLE PLACE