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My hair is grey, but my hands are strong
And my eyesight's keen through the nights so long
I cut and wove and I've stitched and sewn
To dress you warm on the path you'll roam.
Flesh of my flesh, you'll sail the sea
On a tall ship manned by a proud comp'ny
Your name will live in a skald's brave tale
Of the time of summer when the long ships sail.
Your father's hands they sculpt with care
The proud craft tall on a trip he'd share
The dragon's eye and its fierce bright gaze
Are his gift to you in his warrior way.
In our summer years we too were young
My hair like flax in the morning sun
He was a tall and comely man
Who came from the sea to demand my hand.
The sea's a foe, yet the sea's my friend
And it takes from me to give back again
The fates decree and the Gods decide
What will become of your parent's pride.
So, son of mine and your father's joy,
We dress you well and arm your voyage
To send you forth on the summer sea
And with the Gods find your destiny.
© 2001 Teri Wachowiak
Image: "Greisin" (crone), Ernst Peter Huber,
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