Revelations

Wanderer, yet again my land marches

As if to war in the far-off reaches

Of the world, to mountain and high desert,

To crush the descendents of an empire

-Oh, such splendor in that time, chariots

Gleaming like the Sun that was also their King...

Now steel and glass are the works of man,

Now none hang males from trees in sacrifice:

My land and theirs each praise a pagan god,

And in truth I have never made the blót.

I have called you here only from dire need.

Refuse this rite, and my head is forfeit;

If I displease you, sever hence my soul,

Let me never share wine with my kindred.

Grey One whose name is Fury, the One-Eyed,

The Allfather, invoked only in shouts. Odin!

Come!

The God is tall! Mighty like old forests,

A tattered wide-brimmed hat obscures his face,

A spear more terrible than flame or hell

Lays well within reach. He is older than the sea!

"May a thousand years pass before the Wolf!

May your wife's second sorrow wait an age!

Father of All, with banners my kingdom

Threatens another land. Eighty millions

Are said to dwell therein, and most like lambs.

Most are innocent of grave ills, simple

Folk who wish to find Love and worship god;

Yes, they are as all women and men are.

I fear that in a few short years, or months,

We will punctuate their nights with iron,

We will make torturous devices red

With rage and heat and make the young suffer

From disease and fear and hot, carving bombs.

Will this conflict spell the end of our time,

Or the beginning of the path to death?

Many years ago in a hospital

I brought contraband oranges down stairs

To a friend not allowed to come up stairs.

We were in prison, the doors were all locked,

The windows were all locked and thick as wrists,

She was imprisoned but had oranges

And I put the fruit inside my jacket

So that no one could see that I was stealing.

We lived together two weeks in those cells.

I never taught her chess, but I understand her.

She is alive. I am alive. Grey One,

Is my land soon to create a prison

That will comprise most men-women-children

That are not my color, my kind, my creed?

Will anyone dare to bring oranges for them?

If I see two ravens, is the decision made?

Shall I weep for starvation and cholera?

Shall I cheer for brave and glorious victory?"

And behold, the Allfather spoke, and thus he said-