Völuspá
The last one written for 2016Watching the birds flying across the horizon and into the misty glare of the morning sun’s dark light, and no one knows where they are from or asks where they are going. Having me remember that Madman who used to hold court and would sit asking questions as he shared his form of wisdom of things he has known for a long time, or possibly knowing something of the shape of things to come. No matter what is found or seen out...