Freyjaholt

Your vastness humbles,

Your vantages moving,

Such bold features,

Soft in morning

Plentiful life in desolation,

Songs of birds, the play of squirrels,

The yelps of the covey,

The evening sky murals

Little Legged Snake,

Sunning in danger,

Safe in the dark,

Ever worried,

Of the silent hawk

Sharp sage,

Rattling desert cabbage,

Dead wild flower,

Smoke screen horizon,

Of an encroaching wildfire,

A grand performance,

A dance of desert life,

Freyja’s desert farmland,

A delicate balance threatened,

By human strife

I long to see the days,

Before industry struck this land,

When people were part of the system,

And understood their place in the plan

I wish to see stream teaming with trout,

Massive flocks of migratory mallards,

Hills echoing majestic bugles,

Operatic elk singing their souls

Songbirds greet each morning,

Wolves mourn the night,

Rivers rarely below capacity,

Snowpack filling a mountain’s might

Trees are valued for their age,

Not their cubic lumber,

Game is a source of sustenance,

Not a trophy-based wonder

Desperate to contribute,

I want to cultivate land,

Respectfully and responsibly,

So I may support myself within my means

To sew and save seeds,

Raise livestock,

and weave my system,

Into the natural surrounding

Truly celebrate fall harvest,

Stock stores for winter,

Facilitate spring’s rebirth,

Embracing the cyclical worth

No lordship or mastery,

Just husbandry and propagation,

Building a legacy of learning,

Teaching future generations

Living and working,

For happiness, not wealth,

Fueling the soul,

And spiritual health

With purpose and vision,

For soul and spirit,

Living for my path,

Ever working to fulfill it

On the verge of realization,

So close to my first stride,

I am eager to take the first step,

Into the rest of my life

The search for wisdom,

In a life of honor,

Diligently working,

Towards Folkvangr, Toward Her

Such clarity and,

The edge of inner peace,

I can taste serenity,

The path the Norse please

These thoughts, these dreams,

Fill my heart with joy,

My soul with fire,

They drive my lazy bones,

To be free of life’s muck and myre

With not much more to say,

Just the pursuit of a feeling:

The freedom felt by standing in a creek,

Hearing the cool water rippling