Letter To Mistress Monday

Carding & Spinning, Fragrant White Wind 6/4 - 16, Green Castle, Green Castle 2019

White Cosmic Wizard 6.16.19

Dear Mistress Monday~

I dreamed of Thor. His corded arms, thick as ironwood branches, hung thinly by his sides; as fragile as glass. Sweat dripped down his face as he struggled to light the forge, his breath was shallow, but he bent down to lift up his hammer. His fingers refused to comply and would not grip the handle. He laughed then, his long locks falling from his hair as he bellowed, turning to ash. He knew then that he would never beat iron again, nor would sparks fly from the anvil by his hand. As he dropped down to his knees, he fell on his hammer and there was a loud rumbling. Thunder and lightning streaked in the sky and lifted him up, carrying him away and he shut his eyes with a chuckle that split the skies before disappearing. An enormous silver-grey wolf stood where he had been, a peach in his jaws.

This is not a Thor story I’m familiar with, have you heard it before? I thought Thor died of poisoned wounds inflicted when he slayed the Midgard Serpent? I have heard that you have a working knowledge of dreams and would be interested in your reflections on this one.

Thank you~


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