Yule’s Dark Tide (a poem)

Amid frost, trees stand tall and bright,
Candles – soft, warm, and light.
Hearths hum, flames dance and glow,
Cinnamon, pine, smells high and low.
Beneath the boughs, world soft and still,
Laughter rises; warmth that fills.

Wind, biting serpent, cold and sly,
Whispers “Night”. Snowflakes fly.
Mōdraniht, mothers of silent might,
Hold earth’s shadows, thick with night.
With Wyrd’s fates, their winding threads
Waken beasts; darkness treads.

Odin, rune-marked, both flesh and bone,
Hylda’s hounds; shadows groan.
Wild Hunt, chased by dogs of dark,
And Huntress, scour for icy mark.
From Asgard’s peak, Yule takes flight,
Laughters echoes, still endless night.

True Santa, cloaked in winter’s glaze,
Deals fortune in shortest days.
No bells ring; hooves of phantoms pound,
Echoes shake all enchanted grounds.
Air thick, ancient, mystic grace,
Hylda, hounds embraced in chase.

Solstice Eve, Isis, her new light,
Sol Invictus’ rises that night,
Saturnalia weaves carnal cheer,
Deep magic, filling frosty air.
Sacred boar, hands now sworn,
Hunted beast. Light reborn.

Winter’s oath, beneath frozen sky,
Ancient winds, shadows make no lie.
Holy swine, symbols right,
Witness shimmer through eternal night.
‘Neath Yule’s gaze, pale moonlight glows,
Darkness chased, sun now shows.

Beware of frost, winds’ wail and weave,
Great beasts of earth, now take their leave.
These nights, shadows slip, they creep.
Fated threads of silence, eerie sleep.
Odin’s laugh, free, he flies,
Painting new among the skies.

Mistletoe, grows air more thick,
New magic, suggestive tricks.
A kiss, by god of wiles,
Fate’s token, wrapped in devious smiles.
A plant, a gift, a curse combined,
Binds these hearts. Souls confined.

Yule’s dark tide. Fates and spirits meet,
Greets the Hunt, shadows, cold, and sleet.
Dawn’s first light, darkness fades.
Frost soon melts, day invades.
Warmth, sun, shadows light,
Happy Yule, a wondrous sight.


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