In Iron-Wood's wasteland,

Wild wolves she whelps;

Her brood is bringing

Both balance and bale.

 

Hati is harrying

Mani to move,

Sköll in the sky

Is pursuing the sun;

 

For night and day,

They never may dally;

Time cannot tarry,

Flees ever so fast.

 

To Byleist's brother,

Breaker of bonds,

Three boundaries she bore,

Three barriers birthed:

 

Limit of Life,

Hel holds what she has;

Only what ends

Has value and worth.

 

Edge of the Earth,

Serpent encircles us;

Borders and bounds

Define who we are.

 

End of Everything,

Fenris will fall,

A new age from ashes

Beginning again.

 

Both grief and gain

Are the gifts she begets,

The Járnviðja jotun,

The Womb of the Wood.

 
© Michaela Macha
 
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivatives License.