In the Grail legend’s greatest telling,
chastity is not a needed choice.
The Lord of the Grail is allowed a woman,
whose name appears in numinous script,
in flames on its surface. Unfree he is
to have another. (Now, try he can,
but that course of action does not climax well.)
I quest for the Grail, that quickening hallow,
but by binding myself to that boldest endeavor,
It’s a world of hate, with war on all sides.
This eagle sorrows at the anger and hate,
pondering the problem from his perch in the tree.
What do you do, if you do not hate,
when manifest multitudes are mandating hate?
Each end’s extremes are stark-raving mad.
The ghost of McCarthy, that grim specter,
is haunting us still and hunting them out:
The call goes forth, the clamor resounds:
Return to the Heart! The time is at hand
for this holy work that’ll heal the world.
And so Grails go forth, with the glory of Spirit
as shining emissaries to show the way.
From forests of rain, forth she has come,
cheerful Xicoy, the chocolate goddess,
carrying a secret of the Sacred Cup.
Kin to Óðrœrir, cousin of Absinthe,
So seldom seen by the sundry peoples,
a total eclipse of Terra’s sun
is an “awesome event,” in all the senses
of that phrase’s morphemes, former and modern.
Recently now, in a rare occurance
with the grandest style, the Great American
Solar Eclipse bisected the country;
from sea to sea the sun went dark.
We know the material and temporal science
of why it occurs, but what beyond
are the higher meanings of this hallowed sight
and its upward opening to the awe of Spirit?
A truth is told by a tale of the lore
of elder times when all was young:
My great pilgrimage gains momentum
in a Honda Civic on a highway turnpike
through a lengthy drive to the land of Michigan
with a particular stop at a travel plaza
for a franchise coffee and a franchise bagel
on the journey there. Just right it must be,
the faring out and its four hundred
Consider a tree, seemingly ordinary,
to learn the model and life of the others:
the tree within and the Tree without.
Of trees we see the trunk and branches
with beautiful leaves and bright flowers:
luscious wonders. But lurking beneath
the soil’s surface are the secret roots
in that darkest realm of deep unknowns,
where mysteries lurk, tremendous Runes.
So, to truly know a tree’s full life,
What are you, really? The walking rudiments
of upward evolution to an Übermensch?
If you’d aim for that goal of ultimate Ascent,
sorting yourself is seriously needful,
to know what you’re not and know what you are.
Runes aplently are realized in the process.
You have a body, but here’s the truth,