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On Easter's Eve
Freya's finest gemstones stud high heaven's loft,
on Easter's Eve;
West wending Moon turns his fullest face looking east,
over the whole wide world;
Sun slipping up on heaven's lid.
Rainbow bridge embracing Earth's horizon wide,
as Night gives way to Day;
Walking-dead lay low again and Swarthy-elves do flee,
to shadows creep or turn to stone;
As Sun lays gold on Eastern-Heights.
Moon's Mighty Horse he rides down into the sea,
to feast with the Fallen;
Sun's speedy Horse takes into the sky the Ice's bane,
to boast of Heaven's Glory.
Below in Midgard's yard burns the fire of industry
and work the dogs of war;
One to grind the ground of its gold and the earth of its fire,
The other, men to Hel sends faring,
Unwitting of their doom.
Ancestors seeking birth have found the world again,
in this high tide of need;
Alas, some still sleep, but others waken to their fated task,
binding words in holy oaths,
shape such deeds as an age has never seen.
Ancient standing stones in Forest Deep begin to sing,
as in elder times:
Hallowed be Heimdal's sons and daughters,
who've returned to thew!
Shall they be renewed!
© Dan Ralph Miller 2007
Heartfelt Heathen Hip-Hop
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