In my dreams I travel backwards and fore, loosened from the bonds of time. What power plucks at the weave of reality? None but the Opener of the Way, Yog-Sothoth the Beyond One who picks at the threads of time and space.
The images fold in on themselves - a glimpse of Olaus Magnus's A History of the Nordic Peoples (1555) invokes runes and rustic wizards. But is that the Tree of Life I see? Perhaps, perhaps. I shudder when I awake, sick with longing for what I hope I only dreamt.