The Prismatic Color of Gods' Glimpses
To all who look into the fires of the hearth, and wonder at the stars above, visions of the Gods are given, and so it is truly said that Heimdall was our first priest, he who watched and spoke through the flame (and ever so long as the flame was kept burning would he keep watch over the divine abodes in this world).
Yet to every tribe glimpses askance were given, oblique flashes in the dark. These glimpses were true, and full, and of the greatest clarity and splendor any amongst men might know, and yet they were but the merest moment in the majesty of the Gods, whose countenance is beyond comprehension. Only their raiment alone was glimpsed, and that but in sparks, so that the accounts of men differ greatly in their visions, or so it seems.
But there are deeper and darker causes for these rifts, for as the first glimpses were true and clear, there came into the world great corruption that tarnished the visions, and feigning fidelity, mixed itself with the pure, drawing shadow and distortion into the glimpses. Thus around its ember every tribe surrounded priesthoods, to ward the flame from corruption. Alas, amongst many tribes even the wards themselves tasted corruption, and thus from initial diversity of glimpse came strife and division ; from colors, irreconciliability.
Yet Odin asked men to wander wide, that in learning the customs of men, all the glimpses might be gathered and compared. Thus compiled, poetic inspiration itself might synthesize a truer vision, closer in its glimpse, yet still a glimpse.
But to sons of men a true glimpse is as a thousand visions of glory and splendor joined hands and blended. The polishing of the glimpses from the tarnish must continue, for the sons and daughters of men live more through glimpses than most reckon. As the rose unfolds and blossoms, so do our visions evolve.
Yet this does not mean discarding the old, but ever tending out the truth in the ur-glimpses handed down as heirlooms, through the mighty reimagination of inspiration. The goal is not singular unity, but wholeness through diversity and prismatic color, ever evolving through age and dispensation.
Yet to every tribe glimpses askance were given, oblique flashes in the dark. These glimpses were true, and full, and of the greatest clarity and splendor any amongst men might know, and yet they were but the merest moment in the majesty of the Gods, whose countenance is beyond comprehension. Only their raiment alone was glimpsed, and that but in sparks, so that the accounts of men differ greatly in their visions, or so it seems.
But there are deeper and darker causes for these rifts, for as the first glimpses were true and clear, there came into the world great corruption that tarnished the visions, and feigning fidelity, mixed itself with the pure, drawing shadow and distortion into the glimpses. Thus around its ember every tribe surrounded priesthoods, to ward the flame from corruption. Alas, amongst many tribes even the wards themselves tasted corruption, and thus from initial diversity of glimpse came strife and division ; from colors, irreconciliability.
Yet Odin asked men to wander wide, that in learning the customs of men, all the glimpses might be gathered and compared. Thus compiled, poetic inspiration itself might synthesize a truer vision, closer in its glimpse, yet still a glimpse.
But to sons of men a true glimpse is as a thousand visions of glory and splendor joined hands and blended. The polishing of the glimpses from the tarnish must continue, for the sons and daughters of men live more through glimpses than most reckon. As the rose unfolds and blossoms, so do our visions evolve.
Yet this does not mean discarding the old, but ever tending out the truth in the ur-glimpses handed down as heirlooms, through the mighty reimagination of inspiration. The goal is not singular unity, but wholeness through diversity and prismatic color, ever evolving through age and dispensation.
posted by SiegfriedGoodfellow at 6:36 AM
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