• Eliza Tungusnakur

Hawthorne Aisle (Valley of the Trickster)





Carry those mortal treads,

Down

Your Hawthorne aisle.

“Walk forward, Come towards Me, Child.”

Ah, I’m in Your House

Now,

Loptr, Sire.

“But I am, always, In your house; It’s the same, my Fire.”

Shivering in the

Sanctuary

Of this novel Haven.

When the fog Lifts, sun stings, Embrace your Elation.

Grant me Your Truth!

Come out, Scar Lip —

Show Your Face!

Here now, The wind howls like the Kulning, oh Grace.

Two cards

Spit, crooning;

Lands a neat row:

“Darling, We should give it a go.” …Would you really ask me so?

Teacher, Protector,

Lover —

Here is my Church.

Skin prickling, we Ramble down Hawthorne, No longer in search.

Between familiar slopes,

There and here, You say:

“Build me a Home.”

Where, here? In our Chaote House I’ll write songs to Old Love.

Remember this

As the Day

That Sky Treader, stared.

Bedlam God, Dandelion in palm, Eyes alight, sweared: “Sváss, we’d make an excellent pair.”

 

Eliza Tungusnakur


Eclectic Technopagan. Student of Animism. Dark Folk Music Nerd. Part-time goth. Loki Devotee. Creating Community. She/Her, 33, Scotland.




 




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