Forgotten Ground Regained

Listen, He Whispers

Why is the thought, Winging from the edgeOf the known-till-now; Not a kind one,But shudders through, Shakes you awake,Lands with an ice-flake, Lends you worry.
A thought that falls, And flings you from sleep,From a dream of comfort, With a dread hand,So the world unfurls Unfriendly concerns:Fear in a heartbeat, Hurt night-cares.
Mood-heavy, mired, And much in doubt,I and others, Under clouds,Gape, gap-toothed, At a grinning giant:High, heaven-blotting, Behemoth of rock.
To measure immensity Marvellous otherwise,Here, is horror. How can the mindOf anyone cope, Caught, overwhelmed,By hugeness: human might Hobbled by disparity.
Were I a thunderer, Thor’s hammerNestled in my hand, Nudging the sky,Driving with the might My mother gave,Through the earth, Thrumming girdle,
I might make This mooncalf shake,Disperse this fear, Despair on the run!With mood so great That the meanest put-upon,Will strive for the impossible, Stop the imposition.
Were I a lover, Lord my mentor,I might seek To send a friendTo woo the daughter, Win and bed her,Befriend the fiend With a fateful wedding;
Or cute as a kid, Be kept a secretBy its doting wife, Dumb and hidden,Till stealthy sleep Slays the husband,And glad with gold I go my ways.
Or were I a lover, Lady my mentor,Brisingamen bearing Brightened fiercely,Fire of the earth And fire of the sea,Sun and moon Sauntering behind,
I might make This mean one quake,Drawn by dream And drowned in need,Their stone-heart open From opaque sterilityInto weeping welcome, Their wounding mend.
Such tales told In tribes of old,Held now still To help the childThrough terrors of doubt; Tears in the night,My hands reach out, Raised in need…
And here my friend, Honed by travelling,Step by step, Steep-ways battling,Pauses beside me, Pats on my back,Brings me thought, Brings me remembrance,
Settles the brim That brackets his face,Kicks at a pebble, Picks up a stone –“Bellowing Sand, They say is the nameOf the first of the giants: Fell at the start
“To be made, for you, A middling way.This broken scree At the brim of the sea,The finite vault That envelopes the sky,All these come From the corpse of a giant
“I slew, slaughtered, Sliced and divided,For a boundary put around Of bony mountainAnd splattered ocean, Sparing you from this:The enormity of truth, Annihilation of memory.
“Only to be looked upon One eyed, -And here is a breach, A break, in the wallI’d caused to be made To keep outThe overbearing arch Of the eaters’ reach.”
Sits on a cliff-edge, Settles his birds,His wolves on his knee, Waits for an audience.“Listen,” he whispers, Leaning on the wind,“Words must wait For wisdom’s reckoning.”
Broad on the air, The bellowing roarOf the too-great-to-grasp Grapples with attendance:Need must bring knowledge If noticed at the root,And the world in its rawness Wishes to be heard!
“Ask me then, Odhin. Easily I’ll tell youThe bitty answers.” Boastful giantCalls for a wager, Claiming a prize:“I’ll take your head If I top you for knowledge!”
“Since you know So much, tell meWhy, the sun? Why, the moon?What reason the stars? What right has the fire?What meaning the ice, Moaning into the void?”
A quiet anger, An even engagement,Felt in the sand, Fierce in the grain:“The secret you told, To your son, lying,Is it this, Odhin, Else unknown?”
Sits on the cliff-edge. Sailing beneath himIs a sheaf in a shield On a ship all ablaze.“Listen,” he whispers, Leaning on the wind,“Words must wait For wisdom’s reckoning.”
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