Arise from the moss, spread the grass to the wind, leave your faded hearth Because the shadows of the night have ceased to circle round your shielding fire. Seek new trails, for the day is new and pure and yet it is delicate and tender. Awake, wanderer, and seek your path on the land. Kenneth Eriksson, from Life Book 6 Dance, dance, while the mist prevails, dance, dance, lost in the mist, dance, dance on the veils of the mist ere the sun steals its shadows dance, up on the bridge, that the mist is making to the mountain, while the magic prevails, and there drips from the marshes mist, magical mist. I live at the brim of plains.
Free spaces go astray beyond the horizon.
In the other direction I see distant hills. Everything is silent here on the plains. Here the grass is eternal. Not every straw, but the grass as one body. One day I will walk to these distant mountains, lying there, planted, like a chain of temples.