Submissions to Odin’s Agon

For Óðrerir’s Brewer

You kindled in me a love for brewing
Water, honey, yeast
Sacred magic, old magic

Kvasir’s brood, your spit

Relaxing and maddening

Teasing out the ties
Inspiration strikes
Fury froths

Growling forth from each sip, each gulp

May each brew be a worthy working

Each bottle a sacred vessel

Each glass a welcome offering

Alliterative Poem to Odin

Wind and wound

Scream and spell

Health and harm

Scar and sense

Wrath and release

Power and purpose

Grey and gold

Eye and iron

Hanged and hale



Making Midgard


When the Sons of Borr took up the spear

No ravens flew or wolves roamed

Nifelheim was far too cold

Muspelheim far too hot

They dreamed of more than ice and mist, fire and smoke

A World teaming with life, with warmth and with cold

A World full of flowing waters and rain

A World between the the Worlds

So when They slew Ymir

The Sons of Borr took up the best of all Worlds to make Midgard

Fire from Muspelheim gifted by Surtr

Ice from Nifelheim taken from Ymir

Fertility from Vanaheim gifted by Freya, Freyr, and Njordr

Wildness from Jotunheim made by the Jotnar

Riches from Svartalfheim dug deep by the Dvergar

Liminality from Alfaheim made by the Alfar

Death from Helheim overseen by Hela

Potential from the Ginnungagap woven by the Nornir

Within the Middle Yard each World was woven to the others

Crafted with care by the Sons of Borr

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