Ratatoskr and the Seed
When I awoke to find myself in the earth,
Bereft of truth and with so little mirth,
Nearby a-cooing was a dove,
Small paws a-stomping from above.
“Where is this place,” I thought aloud,
“Right here” chirped back a voice quite proud.
“Good sir,” I begged, confused as hell,
“What is your name kind sir, do tell.”
“Mercury say some. Some, Quicksilver.
But to you, wee seed, I am Ratatoskr.”
“Well met, good squirrel, might I inquire,
Why do you bury me in this mire?”
“‘Tis my duty wee nut, since you ask,
To serve the Ash, my noble task.
Running roots to branches leafy,
I impart the Word albeit it briefly.”
“Then tell me courier, goodly sprite,
Why do I suffer in this awful night?”
“You fell from leaves, that much is true,
And I’m now here to bury you.”
“Then ask of them for me your charge,
What is my place in the world at large?”
“Bring a reply to a message say you!?
“We live to scamper—oak, ash or yew!”
And with that he was gone in much more than a dash,
Before I could think he was back in a flash.
“‘Don’t ask us,” say the leaves, ‘we work for the bough.’
Shall I ask the branches if they know who art thou?”
By the time I said “do so,” to my rascally friend,
He returned with the news that might never end:
“They say: ‘it’s not up to us, we work for the trunk,’
Yet me-knows there’s an answer, so get out of your funk!”
But I did not hear him, my spirits were sunk.
How could I continue? On dismay was I drunk.
“‘Roots are my master,’ says the trunk on this day,
As I depart again let go your dismay!”
Just then was I moved; stoked fire by some bellow;
“What just happened?” Said I. “Report my good fellow!”
“Relax my dear seed, lest your shell become broken.
Everything is fine, Nidhoggr has spoken!”
Hidden is She, in the three roots of Yggdrasil.
This wisdom declared She, “I serve the Great Eagle.”
“Then fly like the wind, dear rodent of fire,
And answer the riddle, my one True Heart’s desire!”
“With pleasure, milord,” and again he was gone.
“‘The Heavens we serve’ Great Eagle has shone.”
“By my shell this game is getting long in the tooth.”
“Long is the path up Yggdrasil, forsooth.”
“My apologies, dear Rascal—” “RATATOSKR, you nave!”
“Beg pardon, Good Squirrel, can time we not save?”
“Does my speed not suffice, you impatient speck?
Here’s my sore paws and you’re pain in the neck!”
“Forgive me good messenger, but how will you ask,
The heavens to answer, and be taken to task?”
“Great Eagle hath asked them, and to me he conveyed
‘The Earth’ was their answer and to you now relayed.”
“Good Lord, to rest will this never be laid?”
“Thank you good squirrel, may this great debt be repaid!
So I asked the good earth surrounding myself,
If it would be so kind as to reveal my True Self.
“We serve the sun,” rumbled she mightily,
“Under command of the moon,” she added begrudgingly.
“Good sun in the sky, will you not hear my call!?
Reveal my true purpose! Oh why did I fall!?”
Once again did the squirrel up the tree run,
And return with this answer: “‘Not just for fun.
But surely our answer can only take you so far,
Thus we return to The Brotherhood of the Star.'”
So close did I feel to the answers I sought,
Yet so far were the stars, Great Eagle or not!
“Relax,” said Ratatoskr, “even though I do not,
Patience and virtue are siblings are they not?
Back up do I fly and then Great Eagle after,
Return to you I will with news of hereafter.”
In good time my faithful messenger returned,
“The Brotherhood serves Space” was what he had learned.
“And who does Space serve?” I asked in a quip,
Ratatoskr departed, his tail like a whip.
Ages went by, countless lifetimes, we confess,
“Space serves the Light, no more and no less.”
“Then surely, good messenger, the journeys’ near end!
For whom but The Light can the Final Word send!?”
“I shall up Yggdrasil again, dear master, Ash Essence,
That you may realize at last, and of all this make sense!”
Strange patience welled up as never before.
No longing, worry, or thought for what was in store.
Just sitting and waiting as I did before;
Not expecting a knock or to answer the door.
Not thinking, not doing, no grandiose galore.
Just being in earth. No less and no more.
Then out of the silence came a-cooing the dove.
“We are Whom the Light serves; We are Pure Love.
We’ve been in the Nous Atom in seed within song,
Fear not Son of Ash, we’ve been with you all ‘long.”
My shell it cracked open. My heart swelled like the sea.
If a seed ever had eyes, mine cried joyous and free.
The sun in my heart, the stars in solidarity,
The Inner Akash received Limitless Light within me.
Great Eagle above, his consort Dragon below,
Faithful squirrel betwixt them, Great Mercury we know.
Our prayer had been answered; our dread wanting belayed.
Great Hel had come knocking, and would not be delayed.
Ratatoskr gave Hel two coins squirrelled away.
Into hell would we sink, until at least the third day.
“We thank you, Great Dove, kind Source of the Light,
We go in peace and in joy, without any fright.”
And die I did there, bathed in Love’s delight.
With all of Love’s blessing I passed into Hel’s night.
Some time later broke ground a little wee sprout.
It struggled and suffered and grew itself out.
Now we are here, an Ash at Love’s behest,
Not thinking or doing, just Being our best.
No care in the world but that of Love’s deeds.
Ratatoskr and I, here planting more seeds.
– Attlas Allux