The River
It still makes me cry to remember the fear of us of staying of being bound bleakley to soil, tethered somewhere where it’s greyer, with only the bliss of our […]
Category Archives: dVerse
Battlefield green
In the year of the dragon we saw spring turning ashes of war into battlefield green; we listened to wheels from the gravedigger’s wagon drowning in nightingale’s song; we slept […]
Lies of a dice
Every dream is a cross-road where the pilgrim in you is offered the choice between dragon and mice or whetstone and knife and you’re given advice from the lies of […]
Under the raven
How stark is the righteous raven! Sky-shadow, cloud-maker, trouble of men. The past of a soldier battle-worn, silent waits at the gate for weather to turn to make him forget […]
Memory of wood
We find our winding way between the timber colonnades of talkative fir-trees swaying with the breeze we tiptoe through sun-dappled ferns when high above a jay take flight, scared perhaps, […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 