<li>there is wisdom to be gained from everything</li>
<li>a farmer</li>
</ul>
<p>Meanings when inverted:</p>
<ul>
<li>disequilibrium</li>
<li>enslavement to the cycle</li>
</ul>
<p>Jera can be useful for:</p>
<ul>
<li>opening up to changes in state/being</li>
<li>expanding one's boundaries/limits</li>
<li>guiding a dying person to the afterlife</li>
</ul>
<hr>
<p>Anglo-Saxon rune poem:</p>
<blockquote>Ger byÞ gumena hiht, ðonne God læteþ,<br>halig heofones cyning, hrusan syllan<br>beorhte bleda beornum ond ðearfum.</blockquote>
<blockquote>Summer is a joy to men, when God, the holy King of Heaven,<br>suffers the earth to bring forth shining fruits<br>for rich and poor alike.</blockquote>
<p>Norwegian rune poem:</p>
<blockquote>Ár er gumna góðe;<br>get ek at o,rr var Fróðe.</blockquote>
<blockquote>Plenty is a boon to men;<br>I say that Frothi was generous.</blockquote>
<p>A modern poem:</p>
<blockquote>
<p><strong>I plant scattered words<br/>
in the garden of my notebook</strong><br/>
and wait to see which will sprout<br/>
aboveground and take a look<br/>
at the sun<br/>
above.</p>
<p>Sometimes it takes years,<br/>
others only a day,<br/>
packaged into sorrowful poem<br/>
and then sent on its way.<br/>
The ones that linger in the soil<br/>
sometimes rot, having no soul<br/>
or otherwise missed its context,<br/>
last metro train heading home<br/>
now departing the station.</p>
<p><strong>You slowly opened up to me</strong><br/>
like a flower blooming,<br/>
yet inside nearly bursting<br/>
at the seams<br/>
to have someone to share a dream<br/>
with. Cross-section of a seed<br/>
that was about to germinate,<br/>
crumpled-up squiggle of green<br/>
sometimes with a tiny leaf<br/>
for soil lying in wait.<br/>
Some seeds can be frozen<br/>
almost indefinitely,<br/>
waiting in oblivion for a world<br/>
that will treat them far more kindly.<br/>
And you waited. You waited so long<br/>
for somebody like me<br/>
to help you remember how to breathe,<br/>
how to grow again.</p>
<p>My rewards in Sablade<br/>
will be far greater than any pain<br/>
that I must bear.<br/>
And when comes time to die,<br/>
I should be able to look you in the eyes<br/>
and let you carry me gently into that good night<br/>
and in our new home spill from my lips all the tales<br/>
with perfect memory of all that has transpired<br/>
since to kill Eris the first time you and I failed.</p>
