He Said Come March With Me, Through The Pages Of History

‘He Said Come March With Me, Through The Pages Of History’

He said come march with me-
Through the Pages of History-

Startled, I turned and stared-
Wondering if asleep I was, having a nightmare-

He said, no son don’t be afraid-
I am your Ancestors called to battle from hill and glade-

Countless years, more wars, battles, lives than can be seen-
Through the vailed sight of most souls, filtered through a screen-

Of greed, self indulgence, the pleasure of a fleeting song-
Causes them to run after bobbles & trinkets, causing them to do wrong-

To their own ancestors, their own children, their own eternal souls-
Setting their worldly sights on evil, degenerate, harmful goals-

Like the illusion of pleasure, turns to ashes in ones mouth at the bowel loosing sight-
Of the approaching four Horsemen, radiating the splendor of their magnificent might-

Assured I face him in ease and looked at him again-
Seeing the sun wrinkled, tanning of his battle scared skin-

He griped his weapon with a work hardened hand-
He was indeed a picture of a world tried and tribulation hardened man-

At his side rode a sword with jeweled hilt, but the pain in his eyes told of page after page
In his eyes the wariness and residual heartache of too many times looking over the edge-

Of the grave side of many a brave warrior friend, brother, son, daughter or wife-
He spoke up and told me, I am here to help guide you through the rest of your perilous life-

Soon the frost of indecision will be coating the souls of the unaware, cowardly sheep-
Making them carrion, rotting food for the vultures of the air to reap-

But you my son, for you we have other plans and designs-
As we have noticed you strive for honor, with a thinking, questioning mind-

He took my hand and led me down a shady tree lined winding path-
With the side ditches strewed with broken weapons of many a wars aftermath-

All along were markers of fallen warriors graves, last resting places of their skin and bone-
Just used up human machinery, from which the soul was gone-

As we walked slowly down the shaded path, he told me a tale-
He gave me to drink from life’s lessons learned, the deep and bottomless well-

He talked of evil times, of evil men, of wars fought for evil reasons-
He schooled me on the inevitable march of time, the coming of the changing seasons-

When men would cry out in pain of death, finally hungry for spiritual bread to eat-
Having wasted their lives in pursuit of pleasurable things, unprepared for their soul to meet-

It’s own appointed time to stand before the sight of their wasted live in pursuit of illusions of pleasure-
Their souls, their lives, their actions, all miserably failing to meet the measure-

Of a real man, a real woman, a real human being-
Forced at last to face their evil self serving actions, finally in desperation seeing-

The wasted life, wasted chance, wasted energy pissed away in the warmth of the gentle spring sun-
In the winter of their miserable, cowardly lives, finding themselves quite undone-

Too late to change, to late to stop the ripples of slough and greed they have sown-
Hel awaits their souls to naw on, like a dog worries a bone-

But of you, of our clan we have far greater hope-
You will be the one climes the towering wall to lower to less able the rope-

To guide them, to assist them to the top of the plateau-
Where the horseman of war can not reach them with his arrow and bow-

It is not for personal gain or gratitude you will do this thing of gut wrenching fear-
But to save the lives of all you love, and all the values you have learned to hold dear-

You must take the lead, step into the footsteps of your forebears of old-
The Clan must not see fear in your eyes, your fear of the task, but by your actions, encourage then to be bold-

To preserve the bounty of Earths loving offering of substance, to fight the spoilers of Mother Nature-
So that Honor, Truth, Compassion, caring, respect, yet strong in defense becomes their signature-

He stopped and said these words to me with a reassuring glance from his all seeing eyes-
This is where we part for a while, where we say our byes-

I am your past, I must return from whence I have come to walk a while with you-
So you might borrow from our strength of knowledge, so you can be invigorated anew-

With the fire in your belly, the fire in your heart-
So you are prepared for the coming fight for what is right, for the start

Of your laying of the plank in the bridge so others who follow-
Can transit the bridge over troubled waters without coming to sorrow-

We in our time laid our plank, that is why you can walk as far as you do-
Just as you must lay yours to assist all those coming after you-

Your way is forward, mine is to go back-
But you are never alone, you will never lack-

The prayers of those of us gone before, waiting till your battle is done, your contribution made-
And your earthly body in some humble grave is laid-

Then we will stand ready to welcome you as you join our ranks-
To you our cheers and applause, give grateful thanks-

You did not shame us, as many do to their ancestors today-
So although your future is one of blood sweat and tears, you will cross over to a great Viking hooray-

As you join us in the halls of Valhalla for meat and mead-
As you help us watch over, your and our seed-

He saluted me and turned in an about face-
Waved and left me standing there to finish my race-

I thank Odin I was given such bold and true teachers of the soul’s spirituality-
Sad I was to see him go, but assured of reuniting eventually-

In the halls of Valhalla, where Odin does reign-
We Band of Brothers, hardened by tribulation and pain-

To await the final battle of our kind against them-
When we shall like Odin’s true Úlfhéðnars, rip them in defense of our own, limb from limb!

The Ole dog!

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