Odr's Speech Beneath the Road of Heimdall

Oh why should I confined be beneath

These dullish skies when I might rise to meet

And mimic all the brighter orbs which soar

And silent sail within the golden wingspan

Of those greater heaven's pinions' rims?

For while this body be an earthen fruit

The branched tree of earth did womb, my mind,

Belonging more to upper canopies

May scale, and seek those fruit more glorious night

Reveals within her closed-eye cloak that flash

And sparkle in the outer boughs where I

Do long to linger and explore their furthest

Reaches! And what if, though raised in peasant

Hovels, such a man should find he was

Of princes born, who cast him out on ark

Upon the bullrushes, and water-rushed,

Discovered by more humble folk, was nursed

Within their rustic barns? Why, would he not,

When that more noble stock within emerge

Upon his growing older, seek that home,

Though higher and unknown from whence he came?

Or if a boy from gentry were absconded

By the merest stock of lowly men,

Who never see beyond their dullest eyes

But sought confine this boy of folded light

Whose wings within him longed to soar, to where

They all might reckon him a man, no more,

And stitch with threads of disbelief his new

And glowing snow as swanwhite feathers? Well,

Then he -- permit me now replace this third

Impers'nal pronoun with more proper "I"--

Then I shall leap upon the rainbow's rim

And seek to catch the quickened prow of fast

Receding lunar schooner, sails so bright,

Though stowaway, then show this silver hilt

From out this jeweled scabbard what great sword,

Who even now within its sheath does seem

To whisper to me of my greatness, Moon

(So many moons ago) did bid me find,

Then beg or brandish flaming blade if need

For passage on the rolling royal roads

Of lunar oceanwaves, to where, so up

In upper far beyond my even great

Imagination can behold, my love,

For now not war nor petty vengeance beckons

Me, but sweet, commanding-adoration

Love, whom I too long ago did leave

To pay my father's blood with blood of he

Who struck that noble archer down, awaits!

I know she waits (or so I hope : she must!)

For me, for she hath whispered in my heart

And seemed to pull upon the silver strings

Which bind mercurial mind of mine together,

Singing soft and most etherial song!

And can such incantation prove illusion?

Some would doubt, but I would rather love,

And thus believe, and if they call me fool

For seeking what my inner wisdom asks,

Well, I have played the fool before, and all

To mock their banal minds, which glide not as

My bladed, skis-beneath-me mind is wont!

I shall declare, though every mind hath doubts,

Which seem to rise from flesh like venom bubbles,

He (or she) who lets such doubts bestomp

And squash that love which calls within, though far

It may now be, is greater fool than I

Have ever been, or could be! No! Then to

The stars go I, come risk of fling to cold

And cloudy realms of ice, I shall my love

Ascend, and find her farthest kingdom's kisses!

Traveled far before for her I have,

And that through longest winter. Oh, my love!

The even thought, though smallest, of thee, melts

What ice within that winter chilled my heart,

And now I come a stronger man, but then

A merest boy, from battle, price in hand --

This magic, smith-enwhispered blade to give --

And free surrender, though its power calls,

O seems so strangely speak my elvish name,

To thee and thine, and all for love of thee!

O blessed fire's shimmer, colors bright!

Which shows upon the fall of rainfall, sun

Emerging from the clouds, to me thy path

Bestow thy hidden ways, for here I now

Upon thy wavering air commit myself!

If I be false, abyss beneath shall answer,

But your test, if I am true, shall ground

Provide beneath my feet, and answer love

With shimmer made a solid road, and there,

O Moon divine, for humans call thee God

By night in poet's prayers, or lovers' hopes,

I come, and though a lunatic, I rise!