Mythology Poem by Petra Novakova

Fenrir
There is no silver light without darkness
In the shadows the black furred beast thrives
Between the sunny day and starry night
And when the shadows grow longer
And reach the lonely mountains´ side
The wolf howls and snuffs out the light in its maw

Freya
Queen of magic and newborn life
She rules over all in the fields of afterlife
Lady of love, war and gold
Falcons guard her gardens
Mistress of the green

Hel
such fractured curves
only the queen of the Underworld can bear with grace
her unnatural beauty
a double-edged sword of lust and fear
for all who dare gaze upon the pattern of her split face
and then with her remain
oh what bitter-sweet pain
sustained by the kiss of death forever

Jormungard
hidden within the infinite coils of its body lies the future
as it oh so carefully maps out the pathways of life and death
leaving nothing but broken butterflies and petals in its wake
the snake is the encryption key to the order of chaos itself

Loki
Trickster godling of fire and ice
Air and water
Lokke flies
Shape shifter
Like a spider in its web
Tangled in his web
In a loop of venomous silence

Sleipnir
the mighty battle steed
One leg goes west, One leg goes east
One leg goes north, One leg goes south
Up and Down, Back and Forth
in space and on the ground
like his bearer he cannot chose a simple path
the void cannot hold him for long

Valhalla
as the pendulum reaches into the third dimension beyond class
the souls of the unworthy and the souls of those who came last
can never be allowed to enter the land beyond the frozen past
for only those who fell with honor may through its gates pass

Yggdrasil
from before the sky fell and shattered the world that once was
the tree of life formed pathways across space and time and loss
and as it grew outwards and inwards gaining speed in between
more trees of life were born of its seeds never again to be seen

Ymir
fire and ice locked in an ongoing battle of thought over matter
from which life sprang out in chaotic rainbows across the verse
as the deity born of that paradox could not still its own heart
beating to the rhythm of not-quite frozen raindrops and firelight