Voluptuous Valkyries Vex Victorious-dead

V is for Valhalla......

I won't pretend to be surprised that dreams are powerful and when used correctly, can give you the answers to many of the questions you might have. After my first NaNoWriMo experience, when one night's dreaming gave me, not only the title to my story, but the entire plot... as well as my pen-name for the event, I have never doubted that dreams help align our otherwise chaotic sub-conscious.

Today was no different...

As I posted to many of my friends the need for an appropriate 'V' word for today's blog, it suddenly dawned on me that I woke with the word on my lips--- or rather, I woke with the scene in my head.

I have never dreamed in Norse. At least, I have never been known to dream in Norse. Last night's dream, however, was set in a battlefield--- at the end of the battle (fortunately there were no gory war scenes in my dream or it may have mutated into a nightmare). At the time of the dream, I had no conscious awareness that the scene was a crude depiction of Norse warriors. But as I think of the dream now, I realize the combination of animal skins, furs and ancient armor was indeed Norse-like.

The scene was a sad, but simple one. A group of warriors were startled by the spectral figure of a fallen comrade, whose body had slipped into a deep marshy mire. His spectral ghost lay next to the marsh, trapped in a loop of repeating his death.

From behind the group of warriors, a figure emerges and "magically" raises the body of the fallen warrior from the marsh pit so that he may move on to the afterlife..... At this point, the dream ends.

Though there were no scary Valkyries ripping through my dream, and though I know the dream can be molded to fit whatever "battle scene" I care to impose upon it, I'd like to think I was witness to the birth of an einherjar (lone fighter) on his way to Valhalla to fight in the ranks of Odin's select warriors as they prepare for Ragnarök. Yeah, so that's a lot to pull from one little dream-scene.... can't help it, that's what the writer-mind does....

A to Z reflections....

Another A to Z challenge comes to an end--- another collection of posts and poetry have been written, another deep breath of relief is released. For my fellow bloggers that survived as well, it's another 'challenge-completed' notch carved into the writing desk. I've come to enjoy my yearly foray into the world of all things alphabetical. This was my third year, though it was only the second year I had a workable theme (which made the challenge substantially easier than the first year I attempted this challenge.) And, though my first year was difficult because my focus was so scattered, I found this year was more difficult because I lost the enthusiasm that came with the first year excitement----excitement which helped me plug along until the end of the challenge. Year 3 was a success in the sense that I completed the challenge, though, this was the year that almost wasn't---- Somewhere about a third of the way through the challenge, I seriously considered

A million lives, beneath a single sky.....

Though our feet leave different prints,our tongues sound different words, there's a mirrored rhythm in the beating of our hearts. Though born in different worlds, our eyes sharpened 'neath different moons, there's an unspoken truth in the warmth of our touch. We may walk in different strides and dream different dreams, we may speak in different voices, maybe swim in different streams. It's plain to see, when dark night falls, as all the stars shine through, that underneath it all, there's no difference 'tween me and you.

Bitter Honey

Weaving dreams of beguiling gold, a future's price for happiness. What secrets do you, determined, hold? asks the summer wind's soft caress. A guarded name, a hidden hope. Spinning wheels clutching time, grasping straw that falls away, What dreams may come, we soon may find, won't recall at end of day. A cherished life, a memory lost.

From the Inkwell, From the Vein.....

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