STORM BATTLE
Blue gray storm clouds covered the sun
I see them floating about and getting thicker;
they look threatening and fierce,
ready to destroy us with their storms.
We look small below them and unimportant
they can crush us with cold rain and hail,
frighten us with their thunder
and the spears of the lightnings they send.
I can see behind the clouds! There are warriors,
blue gray warriors hiding, ready to spring
throwing their spears, pelting us with hail,
flattening the earth so they can rule again.
It must be the Norse warriors... the fiercer ones,
not the bright Valkyries on their flying horses.
Perhaps they are enemies, let us call;
call to the Valkyries to protect us!
Here they come, whirling around on their steeds,
bright hair swirling, battle cries with high notes,
fighting the dark, fierce warriors
who would destroy us with the thunder and hail.
What beautiful armor, white winged horses,
bows and arrows, runes on their armbands...
swoop down so I may ride behind you
let me be a battle-maiden too, serving Freya!
Teach me your battle-cries, paint my face with runes,
proud warriors! May I be your sister?
Like glittering Brisingamen, the sun shines again,
glowing upon your armor...
The shadow warriors dissipate, the clouds roll away,
the Valkyries have won the battle.
My warrior sisters must fly back to Valhalla,
but they will come for me in the dream-time.
© August 2005
Beth Johnson
(Mystic Amazon)
