And the Whales gathered by the side of the ocean
A swirl of Oak and tang of Birch belled out a clarion call of connection for all who ventured near.
Who shall answer their finely attired language and come join the fray of the Old Ones?
As the Robin roams the wood on the web of flightlines,
the very soils of this place soar up to meet… and greet.
‘Who comes this way to vent their dreams,
studded with bifrost and the linger of the Others?’
A circlet of Dragonflies kisschase through the soup of life, strained and filtered by finger-crossed hopes.
Will they come? Will you come? Will we journey on the taste of that which can be?