Three letters on a website
And I hear Fenris call again
And the serpent gnawing there
At the roots of the world-tree.
And though the king is baptized
And the old gods dead and drowned
Still I leave my Christian bed
To throw blood on the standing stones.
Sink a shovel deep
In the company of friends
And bury deep on this good day
Your hearts in one another.
For in this place is planted
And from this day will grow
Something that has never been
And never could be else.
We do not build a marriage
Like a table or a chair
Hewn and cut and shaped
By knowledge or by craft
Some things must be planted,
Deep in the soil of time
Watered and watched and waited for
While the mysteries work beneath.
But when the time’s accomplished
You will join your hands and rest
‘Neath branches low with things
You never thought to long for.
And every year the fruit is sweeter
And every season branching higher
Summer, autumn, winter, spring
Each year stronger by a ring.
underthehebrewsea 