I am Ostara, leaving my hill in the springtime, life in my wake.
I am Freya, turn maidens to women, my apples are ripe for the shaking and taking.
I am Hulda the Gracious, gifting you with a good year, and gold from my well.
I am Frigga, checking your housework and spinning, meting what you deserve.
I am Hel, round me flutter the souls of the unborn and stillborn, and children died young.

I am Perchta the Gleaming, the awe of beauty and terror, I lead the Wild Hunt.

I am Holle shaking the the bedding, covering Midgard, my snow globe, in white.

© Michaela Macha of Odin's Gift

- This poem is in the Common Domain and may be freely distributed
provided it remains unchanged, including copyright notice and this License -