I awoke with two round moons
Holding my hands
Asking me to cherish
Each breath I was given to take
I slowly drew one in
And icicles formed on my beard
Tingling each lung
One quiver at a time
Until my thoughts all vanished
Like the sounds of cracking ice
And light arose
From tips of frozen fir
Grand Douglas firs
Silhouetted as snowy boughs
That stood watch
One more evening.
Buri, Buri, Bor’s three sons
– Odin, Vili, Ve of Bestla –
Take pain from frost ogre’s Bos
Who suckled life
To Ginnungagap’s gain:
Fire to ice,
Melt to freeze,
Blood to water,
Flesh to land,
Bones to mountains.
But pass great peaks
Will come to be,
Ask and Embla
Be flesh to climb,
Ask and Embla
Shall mind land too.
From our Odin: spirit;
From our Vili: will;
From our Ve: wisdom.
Together a triad,
True Aesir indeed.
I cannot shake cobwebs of memories woven
Like the nest of an eight legged creature
Singing along to its tiny violin.
For whether I am last or first becomes
A brown bottle of almost never cared,
Sitting lifelessly on a stained cedar windowsill
Collecting dust and losing its eyes to tears,
Losing its words to years.
Somehow daughters never returned,
Sisters forgot the street number
Even though the sign sat twisted like a unicorn
Whose mane flowed so thickly in powerful gusts of wind
A rooster turned right around watching.
One cobweb strand reminds me of twin fawns
Who would wander by searching for blackberries,
Rich and prime and staining my fingers
Like thick lines trailing after a slug
Crossing a cement pathway.
I’ve grown used to the cobwebs,
Adjusted to being wrapped so delicately
Subtle changes in atmosphere
Cause reverberating sensations to flicker around
Along a one way street on the holy train.
It’s reached a point where I no longer feel
The sweet perspiration of an ice cold Coke bottle;
Instead, the roar of a monotonous dial-tone
Eager to tell me it’s all right,
And I’ve been here before.
A motionless saunter through the cold grass leaving footsteps every bloody place that I go and picking up my feet without tying up the laces because the gloves on my hands are too warm and the air is too cold but the path ahead is shaking and quivering in unrelenting uncontrolled mastery non-mastery in spite my insistence on leaving my hands out of their pockets to fight this urge to cower and shelter from the brutal elements hoping to bridge the gap between strength and toughness without too many frost bites but this is ok because I read about it in a book that told me I should and it told me it’s valiant and it told me I can walk on coals with bare feet too because the skin between my toes is too soft and could use a good toughen up but oh my look at that large dog walking down the now covered in leaves path about to jump up on me because I treat it like a human being and acknowledge it’s existence for who in their right mind wouldn’t want to jump up on me with such an acknowledgement but you know the dog is so friggen big it’s like a young man feeding must be expensive is all I can think as my steps trace up the frozen tarmac slipping on the thin layer of ice hardly visible and highly wavering but all is good because I’m about to peak this crest and stand for a moment on the highest point and survey my kingdom for it is my kingdom for it is my kingdom for it is my kingdom that I survey due to my commitment to walk the coldest slippery path in all the woods in the mornings before the dusk has settled in and after all of the leaves have come flying down to the maker of their fate named gravity and decay and decomposition and footsteps along the singletrack path between the naked branches of thinner than I thought birch trees awaiting the bounty of springs sunshine because I’m not ready to give up on the year yet I’ve got plans to formulate and materialize and time to waste and sleep to never catch up on and a nice warm cup of coffee around noon because I’ve begun to let down my guard for certain things as I raise my guard for garbage and consumption and waste and destruction of our land this land my land my kingdom I saunter through on this cold frosty morning good morning world good morning world good morning world get up and go now take it off.
I just wanted to tell you, you look nice today. Did you clean your coat?
No honey, it’s spring time! I’ve been swimming
Mmm. That’s why you’ve been smelling so delightful too!
Wally, did you remember to get the bacon at the store today?
Yes Waddle, it’s on the ice cooling, should I go get it?
I think that would be a great idea, I’m getting hungry, and you never know how long it will last with the neighbors kids out and about… Can you take the garbage out too Wally?
Yes dear, anything else?
Well, what would you like with the bacon for dinner?
Perhaps some salted home style potatoes? With some squid? Would that work?
Oh! Great idea, I think we still have some squid frozen in the freezer, could you grab that too?
Aye! I can smell it already!
Wally and Waddle can be purchased here.
And fantasy breaks over the ice like award winning actors
Carefully floating its sadness into the cracks of the frost
Sculpting majestic kingdoms for antique traveling
Who walks away with the prize when all soldiers cry?
Dim spots of light fill the sadness over the meadow
While blood nourishes the fresh roots finding the new morning
For then, after one evening of bonfires and dancing
The heavens broke open and spilled out eternity
Laughing out loud as if pricked by cupid himself
As dances all came to a finale and bow
The feelings rustled down in orange and red leaves
With freshly cut pine keeping warmth in the fire