Association of Polytheist Traditions
Copyright © by Math Jones 2002
Stride by stride, straight as the arrow's flight,
over the snow goes the etin's daughter.
At the walls of Asgard, to the Æsir she calls
for a blunting of her sorrow - blood for her father.
Gild must be paid, else Gods' blood spilled
Will darken Asgard. The Gods agree
to honour the man-price: a husband for a father
and a bringing of gladness to a girl in grief.
But Njord is no Baldur, though neat of foot,
and she has no need for Noatun's wealth,
while the warm lapping of waves on the strand
and the call of gulls is galling to her heart.
Skating over ice, skis brushing snow,
fierce with grief for a father lost
to Thunder's hammer: hurt will be felt
in the halls of the Gods unless gladness is found!
Asgard stands empty. Only Loki
is seen to greet her: silent and bare,
his breeches down, dropped to his knee,
his gonads bound to a billy-goat's beard...
Grief can be heard, hard in the laughter
lugged from her heart, as the long one tries,
the billy running hungry, his balls to hang onto.
Though long in his stride, he will now swing lower.
Not all in Etin-home are able to sorrow
and healing of hearts goes hard in the ice,
But the tears of her losing (and the tears of his bruising)
are like frost in the fire, as he falls to her lap...