Post by AquarianM on Jul 11, 2013 5:33:15 GMT -5
Scanning The Tree Of Life...
The Norse - my ancestors - called it Yggdrasill;
A phenomenal sacred ash tree that connected the nine worlds to Asgaard,
Here on Midgard,
It is a tub full of a few thousand pictures,
Printed on enough paper to eat a small tree,
Or to eat many hours of my life,
As I try to scan my family's entire history into digital files.
To me and my blood,
These are our epics,
A visual reference to the ancestors and our earlier selves,
The legends we grew up with were no mere myths,
Yet they can become lost in the mists of time,
All too easily.
So I sit,
Days,
Moments,
Whatever I can find,
Scanning the leaves of the tree of our life,
Before the leaves of my memory fade into Winter's darkness forever.
I am the archivist,
The watcher on the Rainbow Bridge,
I bear the sword to edit the past from the future,
And the duty to carry all that is worthy into electronic Heaven,
A gift for the progeny of my world tree.
Poetry alone will no longer suffice,
Save to nurture the roots,
And fill in the rough bark for those seeking to climb,
I will plant this tree of knowledge firmly in the future,
Or it would drive me insane with loss,
For I can't bear to see these days as derelict as dandelion seed on a Summer breeze.
AquarianM
By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 07/11/2013
*Gawd, digital scanners are slow enough to seem like Hell.
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yggdrasil
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Asgard
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Midgard
The Norse - my ancestors - called it Yggdrasill;
A phenomenal sacred ash tree that connected the nine worlds to Asgaard,
Here on Midgard,
It is a tub full of a few thousand pictures,
Printed on enough paper to eat a small tree,
Or to eat many hours of my life,
As I try to scan my family's entire history into digital files.
To me and my blood,
These are our epics,
A visual reference to the ancestors and our earlier selves,
The legends we grew up with were no mere myths,
Yet they can become lost in the mists of time,
All too easily.
So I sit,
Days,
Moments,
Whatever I can find,
Scanning the leaves of the tree of our life,
Before the leaves of my memory fade into Winter's darkness forever.
I am the archivist,
The watcher on the Rainbow Bridge,
I bear the sword to edit the past from the future,
And the duty to carry all that is worthy into electronic Heaven,
A gift for the progeny of my world tree.
Poetry alone will no longer suffice,
Save to nurture the roots,
And fill in the rough bark for those seeking to climb,
I will plant this tree of knowledge firmly in the future,
Or it would drive me insane with loss,
For I can't bear to see these days as derelict as dandelion seed on a Summer breeze.
AquarianM
By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 07/11/2013
*Gawd, digital scanners are slow enough to seem like Hell.
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yggdrasil
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Asgard
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Midgard