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~ By Courtesy of Others ~

The I in Mimir's Well

Secrets on the wind.
A leaf flutters, floating, drawn
To its own reflection in the Well.
Leaf and image kiss.
Soul & body,
Myth & memory,
Then & now & will-be
Meet at the membrane of water:
The holy kiss of wisdom
In Mimir's well.

And is it worth an eye?
Worth a self, a soul,
To sip this water
cool and silky on the tongue,
Trickling down the throat
Into unseen depths.

What will happen when this yeasty sip
Reaches the great vat
Of unknown liquids
Pooled in the depths of myself?
Will a heady brew arise,
Lifting and mixing all parts of myself,
Suffusing me
With mod and wode and wisdom
Till I myself am a poem
Brewed by a master?

Or will this yeasty sip
Run berserk within me,
Exploding me into smithereens
Instead of fermenting me slowly?

What shall I wager on the chance?

Would there be a home for my eye
Within the Well?
For my mind,
My memory?
What is it like down there?
What will I know?

I hear a song I could not sing,
Humming from the Well
Like a seashell sings the sea.
And the water smells like everlastingness
Rocky and green and echoing through time.
It is full of whispers.

I dip my finger in, take one drop,
Dab it on the eye I do not have.

Fire and shards and cacophony,
Bursting and breaking,
Shattering, shimmering.
I can't see.
I'm coming apart.
I'm on fire.
I've got to quench this burning eye
Or I'll go mad.
I grope around blindly...
Water!
With a gasp, I plunge my whole head in.

This isn't what I expected.
Could I have my head back?

This is just the beginning of my tale,
But all my thoughts & words are bubbles now,
Floating like leaves on the wind,
Fermenting.

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