Where is Arcadia? What is Arcadia?
These are fair questions for finding answers.
But most important is the message it has.
Forests of Spirit are found in that land.
The trees have deep roots: tall they will grow,
to touch the sky in triumph and Ascent.
Runes aplently are readily grasped;
they lay on the ground for lifting up.
You’ll find in Arcadia the forest whence
Askur and Embla came ørlög-lacking
to the ancient shore where Óðinn shaped
their wondrous wyrd. In wide rivers,
there are precious fluids pouring in torrents:
the blood of heroes, the bright mead of poets,
and the ink of scholars. The skaldic eagles
are wending whither these wonders are;
with zeal they seek the zenith above.
The Absolute here is ever-present:
the All in all and All beyond,
which is nothing like “the night in which
all cows are black.” Au contraire, blindness,
a lack of light, cannot lift the veil
of higher Truth. In its holy synthesis,
through joy the system of German Idealism
is complete at last. Apollo’s spirt
and Óðinn’s energy are omnipresent
in this Hyperborean High-Atlantis,
and the Grail is gained. The great roads thither
are individuation and actualization:
become who you are, the craft of the Self.
You can ponder the painting from Poussin’s brush,
but you need not seek the noble tomb
of a storied god whose stead is unknown,
as some suggested. But they’re certainly right
that the secrets of gods are concealed in Arcadia.
When you gain the gnosis of its glorious trees
— via Mead or Runes or Royal Art —
in wisdom you’ll know, as one who sees,
that on Earth Arcadia is only in the Heart.
(This time, I don’t know know what I’ll post next week. For a complete non sequitur, you might reading try the one and only sonnet on my blog. Also, but only on April 1, try my post about a significant astronomical alignment. The day after that, you can read its sequel.)
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