along the ridges, clefts and scars
the mounds and digits
buds have grown
whispering slips
they throb and ache
life yearns to fill itself
a song that’s sung but hard to find
to find the words to sing it
yet still is born as seeds within
and written in the hearts of men
which drips like blood red ink
the yearning toward eternal return
of them who seek their Goddess
as above and so below
gently now the seed is sown
the landsman’s thumb has plumbed the soil
where blood has kissed the fallow Earth
such a subtle hymn of praise
a one more sublime none could want
the green has come to yield
to offer up a promise of her fruit
which we shall taste and waken to
the sense of our place abroad
saplings push up from the ground
budding heads peel back their skins
showing us the green within
totem poles and Irminsul
all Nature plants a shrine
two Ravens perch above the scene
and higher still the Eagle flies
once and come again
the Gardner knows to read the signs
the Goddess spread her tender lips
in the yearning of the year
and now we see her flower bloom
as pollen coats the fields
life seeks after surging life
her plate and cup flow smoothly over
having gorged Her with our gifts and time
and so long at last having had her fill
we reap the friendship of her thighs
as life expands her borders
we work to plough the fatted land
that in the end our bodies fill
another gift to be repaid
she cannot be kept full for long
soon will come the dark and storms
þūnor howls and Wōden hurls his spear
looming like spirits across the deep
the fury of a hungry Earth
the promise of the coming Fall
when She eats from Ella’s plate
and Bældæg sleeps within
the God cannot die forever
and those above wait for his birth again
and the Summer Sun slays the Winter
and we can again give suck to Idunn’s tit
and drink the lifestream our Earth has given
lives lived between the Springtides
the yawning of the gaps
the sweet and satisfied moan
where Earth Herself is born again
before her Ragnarøk
the reckoning of our time
dear compass of the world
our Vegsvisir
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