luni, 9 ianuarie 2017

poem - Berkano

- David A. Marin

His robes grazed the concrete floor
His eyes closed, knees bent, he sought
The monk takes in the air and lets it out.

Large, hollow cross hits the floor,
Is pierced by the radiating golden flow.
The monk’s heart accelerates – his spirit opens,
He breathes, slowly slower, he trembles calm,
The concrete floor echoes
as They touch the ground.

The christian cross, it hit the floor,
His eyes closed, knees bent, his spirit laughed
The monk takes in the mist and lets it out.

The room is filled with elf-radiance,
His blood swirls with new light,
At his neck, a metal cross gets cold and falls.

He dances on the concrete floor,
Now kneeling North.

His body fills with shivers,
The room is filled with eternal wits.
He smiles and chants, he knows who he’s facing,
With no fight, he pledges allegiance.

He remembers others around him,
He feels their shaking flesh and unity,
Their crosses too, have hit the ground.
Before them three stand two of Them
And many more vibrate across,
The concrete hall is filled by the gods.

New, he looks ahead, and sees
With one eye missing, dressed in black
The All-father.

And beautiful eyes and curls of fire
The one of the Vanir which they all knew
She blessed them with a heavy smile.
He nodded.

Before, one saw another,
with one arm,
His noble face, a look of justice
He swung his shield, inspiring.
They stood kneeling,
Outside, the snowing stopped
The mounds of ice were silent
The mountain air was pure.

New man spoke first, then the others chanted.
A rune followed, and then another, and again.  

In the radiating afterglow,
New woman said to new man
Not that she had accepted,
But that she was accepted.
The third who had attended,
Awakened, said so too.
In the fire of a candle,
one of them saw Valhalla.
Sessrúmnir, one felt too.

They rose.

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