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;
That’s how he did it, by hanging from a tree,
how Óðinn won the ancient runes.
He challenges us to change our lives
by seeking those mysteries. And so we must,
by hanging also on a hallowed tree.
But what is Yggdrasil, and where might it be,
Freud is famous for phallic tobacco,
though he said at times it’s simply not.
But maybe it’s more than a mass of leaves,
brown and oily as if born from dirt.
Take from the topshelf this tube, for instance.
“Carpe Noctem” is its clever name,
The supreme executive’s power derives
from the masses’ mandate, so a man has said.
But isn’t that how we enabled this mess,
where the same-old same-old has ceased to work?
Could the status quo have stayed much longer?
When power comes from the people below,
Truly creation is a time of chaos.
Not petty disorder, but potential vast,
unmanifested, a magical void.
It’s a time of chaos with Trump right now:
the media said it and mouthed it endlessly.
Will America be . . . made great again?
What about you, where do you fit?
All the events in the upper worlds
impact us here, though they’re petty there.
Mother Frau Holle is making her bed,
shaking her blankets, shaking them vigorously
and we get a blanket of the whitest snow.
The continual din of the day is tapered,
Hatched from the Egg, he was hungry always;
that cosmic hailstone crafted such wyrd.
In size he surged, consuming carrion:
strong and stately, he stood at last.
He was sleek and fierce, but unsatisfied.
That fleshy fodder had fulfilled its end,
but such food no longer could feed his soul.
His keen cold eyes, they craved new vistas,
and his heart sought out the holy mysteries.
To the Cave he went, that court of darkness
and Lunar land of limitless night,
seeking its treasures for his soul’s triumph.
He came at last to cauldrons three
filled with the ferment of fathomless Spirit.