Silence, majestic silence, resides in the legendary hall of OakNo footsteps sound across the boards of wood,
those polished mirrors at my feet.
No cobwebs hang from the mighty beams above my head.
A powerful, almost menacing, sense of awe pervades my senses here.
I stand alone ... but in my head I feel telepathic traces
I am not alone.
I stand on mighty ground, in a place where wise Odin does often trek,
And with he I seek communion, to learn the truth of I
my spirit within.
I feel akin to these beings who reside in this hallowed hall,
But I know not how or why I feel the way I do here,
It is strange, but I feel at home in this place yet I bear no shield nor sword.
I am wayfinder, mystic warrior ... a gentle flame amid a field of tinder ... I am no mighty warrior
How then have I the right to be here?
It is an enigma ... ticker tale thoughts to go reverberating these silent halls
An enigma I am at pains to solve ... for I am mesmerised by the resonance of this mighty place.
Valhalla - ancient hall from the ancient nordic legends
The place akin to the name of heaven with the gods of the Aesir
Ambrosia on the lips of the dying Viking braves ... it hovers like a prayer in their minds
An evocation of power ... a spell of might ... one which reverberates through my being
Once sounded it will always plays its enchantment ... a captured note in the sacred heart.
It feels so familiar to me here ... a gentle flame now within the hearth of thunderous flagrations
Seemingly out of place ... but I know what lies beyond this room
The fireplace to my right, the hallway straight ahead ... the corridors beyond
A realisation then ... perhaps the deedsman who entered this mighty place in an ancient past.
Written by Matthew James 2001
