Viking Poetry: Wild Joy

Viking poetry for a dark, cold and rainy Sunday in the mountains.

Wild Joy

You ask if I am happy.

Happy as the solitary pine

Naked on the mountain precipice

Writhing roots death-gripping crumbling stone

Black wind wailing ghostly requiems

Across a sky of ebony inlaid

With veins of royal purple, while I wait

Breathless, yearning for the two-edged axe

To freeze my blood, that I may warm man’s hearth.

Copyright 2013-2018 by Rose Larson aka Runa Sword