Wednesday, 12 September 2012

Homecoming

Fire burns, in hearth and heart, reflected in the eyes and faces of the many beloved, gathered about it's warming flames as shadows dance and leap upon the walls of our hall.
Vapour hits the air with a bubbling hiss as hot skin and transforming sinew, releases its virtue to the hot orange coals below. Woodsmoke and steam rise to the flags and straw rooftop then linger, above this joyful band of brothers and sisters, as busy weavers make their way to avoid the hot damp, the charred scent of mans appetite for flesh pushes them deep into the high corners to weave their magic in comfortable bliss.

It seems to have been a while, but now the mead flows and honey sweetened ale is consumed and spilt, some by the hap hazard near drunken revelry, some for those before and a drop for those to come, a drop for the old ones, and several for the winds, huzzah! the toast for those many who would carry us to richer lands, one day to the great hall of the gods, but not today.

Beyond the stones, the earth lies crisp with hints of silver, dark trodden soil illuminated by the moon in perfect reflection of that heavenly spectacle above, accented, diamond white sparkling gems that shift and move beneath the face of Cain, that shrine to our ancestors, that map to our lives, that guiding sky.
Old Toby raises his nose to the wind as the smell of revelry reaches his senses, desire to sate his hunger remains for a second but the danger is too great, tonight he waits for the midden pile to be refreshed and then to dine among his kin.

Safe and warm, beyond the fox's gaze, a cup of horn is raised as the old chieftain is remembered, another for the King upon the hill, within castle walls of impenetrable stone and safe from the concerns of other tribes, once again to our gracious lord, another to his lady fair and many many more to this raggle taggle bunch who fill this place with vibrant laughter and life itself, for we are gathered home at last, the many as one we become, united in this flesh and fire banquet, for now and all times to come.

I partake of the feast,  hot meat, my mouth exalts at this divine pleasure, salted fat runs down my chin, this revered tribute to our continued voyage, its essence, screaming through my every fibre, I fill my tired weary boots, tonight we eat, tonight the famine passes, tonight we remember our own.
Thankful for the company and for the beast we devour we remember our own.
We consume this flesh and its virtue with hope and love, the bonds of family, flows through us to become us.

Blood brown, bark skinned, bristle brushed backed ploughman. within the upturned furrows of forest drear, of upended sod and broken branch, wise excavator of the mysteries, devourer of wisdom and rugged companion of the dark terrible beauty that is the enchantress of men.
Midnight wanderer, secret seeker, path finder, Iron boned, bright lamp of the hidden road, god bearing, rule breaker, earths own herald.
We devour you, as your spirit consumes our selves.

For this merry band.

Remembers.



Flags,Flax and Fodder.

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