Submission to the Hoenir Agon
by C. Greene
Hoenir, King of the lands of plenty,
what wisdom have You found amongst the marsh birds and the eels?
God Who granted will to Ask and Embla,
terrible will born of a slayer of Ymir,
Haunter of the lands most filled with Ymir’s blood,
what do You seek there?
Are the bog lamps the lingering flicker of Ymir’s synapses,
does wyrd stretch out its threads before You in the fog,
or are the cleansing places of the world whispering their secrets?
With whom would You share Your heron-wit?
Will the descendants of the driftwood born be worthy of such a gift,
or will we burn brightly and fade like the will o wisps of Your holy places?
Silence in the bulrushes may greet the querent, but that may be an answer in itself. May we be worthy Hoenir, may we learn from Your primal acts, and in Your silence may you not be forgotten.