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~ By Courtesy of Others ~

 

 

Mysteries Gathered

At Mimir's wise well I would slake
A thirst so fierce it drives my brain,
And into myself the runes would take

By sacrificing my flesh in the rain.
As did the Old One, I'd cry out,
My blood running as the water stained;

Galdring the mysteries through my shout,
Incorporating them into my being,
Knowing they´re mine without a doubt.


© Jackie Hannigan  May 18, 2003    

Jackie on Facebook    Scrying the Well (blog)


Poetic form: Terza Rima

 

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