In the garden young Loke lies dreaming

The one who closes dreams under branches under leaves

Dreams while the snake keeps watch in the tree

And we of air and fire dream the wordless dreams, free from the horrors of vision

The dreams of a world for the quiet ones, for life unbound,

a world for the little lives, for all that moves not fixed by lines

a dream of a step not back, not forward, but to the side, a diagonal dream,

a dream that stops, and looks and let it be

and not let the clamour of the claimers of good prevail, their noise and greed for definition

dreaming while apples drip to the ground sprouting seedlings creating space by stems and air

a world with room for the between, for the wide spaces between lines, for all that lives on the threshold and wants not more, keeping past, keeping present, being both, always all, beyond the point that got too sharp, narrowed down to a razor what should be a meadow, what should be a space to breathe and to change, change shape and form to what will be, for what I was I am no more and what I will be I have always been

 

for these are the new dreams, far from the fields of glory

 

Once I dreamt of having a shadow, a reflection in the things brought in from the rising sun,

glittering like metal

I dreamt of having different sides, so that none should win, but tension arise and by this different life, more life to come

Dreams that grew stale when one side forgot and got greedy, not for victory alone but for truth, wanting not merely to be right but to be good as well thinking they could cut the fabric of reality to let light in and not destroy the tapestry of the world through their actions

seeming to fight something else than themselves, they could calmly pretend nothing and no one existed outside their constructed conflict

and meeting with spears and flames the messenger

but I will keep your heart safe, you golden child of the strange, thrice born daughter of weird, hated only for your way of reminding the righteous of their responsibility, accused of starting a war that never needed be had it not been for their want for shaping the world and the one eyed man thinking he was king among the blind, trying to destroy all things that challenged his certainty, posing painful questions, listening only to talking heads

he never had any aim anyway

and to try to bring balance from within never work, for within is within a whale, you're already swallowed, and to tip the scale, to remove things of weight is never welcome, not one hair, or hammer can be removed without massive outcry from the masses, unstable as they are in their sinking ship of unnatural order

 

And then the world started to die from their claims to life, the new and distant gods and their claim of removing life from matter, thinking it good to drain the world for the benefit of their fantasies, but I've seen the nights filled with bloodsports and pain and what happens to stale, still life no matter how shining it started out, and how the world dissolves under their enforced oaths until only the slender, scanty vine can be an arrow of hope in winter and release the life bound to eternity from its trials, leaving it to the ground to form new and different life in the next world

 

And when they then grew distant, these harvesters of truth, retreating to the halls of gold to drink away their horrors, thinking themselves safe from their guilt in the halls of gold, bale and hatred I bring to the gods, and their mead with venom I mix. I will tell you where it will end, for nothing will silence these words

I will tell you how land always craves blood and those who live by it will also, those that think themselves kind, those that weave rules to tie the land to them and them to the land to pretend to own by blood ties, create right and good to make real their claim by clay and mud, create mud where there was grass, suffering where trees stood, death trapped between walls, walls to weigh down the soul to tie that too to the ground by red ribbons, yet prosaic at best and though often repeated easily disregarded

now free from family ties dry the poison from out your eyes

and listen to the wordless dream

 

Sea serpent rise with the water and take to your wings, release the world from your ponderous introspection and stretch beyond yourself and narrow nihilism, for the answer is never within and to close on yourself is only to relinquish your potential, though your think you are at peace

Open the world, open the maze that your are, and do not fear the thunder that gathers, it is only sound and fury, signifying nothing

it is hard to let go of that what holds you when it is yourself

it is disturbing to unravel

but letting go of your grip will not be the end of you, will not throw you of fhe edge

for there is water in the air and in all that lives, in rain and in rivers and veins

let the egg hatch and a new world breathe

 

And wolf of the wide name, quit your small distractions of curiosities, for these strange wonders of the world shall lose their thrill for stranger things still, and no footfall of cat, no beard of women, no sinew of bear, nor even roots of mountain will move your gaze any longer now, and even the heady scent of heather you must shake off, turning to the world once more, open to new impressions, you trusting child, calling out the law for what it is, one handed

it is hard to let go of what holds you when it is wonder

it is confusing to look up from the mystery

leave the bank of the river, for it will flow even without you, for beauty is its own thing and needs no watcher

let the river flow as it will and fill the air with your prescense

 

And you who are two, take possession of the other half of the kingdom

it is time to look both ways

Dweller under the roots, though your world is vast and seems endless, the end has already come and gone and there are no sides to take

You who are whole, allow yourself to be so, to be your name, for they have no right to your lighter side, are no more right for your happiness, you owe your sorrow to no one

it is hard to let go of that what holds you when it is all that you know

it is painful to embrace your shadow of light

for light and death are one, as life is one with darkness

let the things that can remember, recall how gentle death is in the new dawn

 

And in this dawn the dreams take form

form of fire and air born

and taking the slow solitary steps

we sing