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Do Not Forget
“Is that the sound of wind-blown trees,
Or the swish of Skadhi’s wooden skis?
Do I hear the song of winter sing
Or the hum of Ullr’s tautened string?
Is the wolf devouring the sun?
Is Fimbulwinter finally come?”
The Heathen mind mulled these thoughts
As the days grew cold and ever short,
“Is there grain enough to see us through?
Will our neighbours need to share our food?
Will the North winds chill us to the bone?
Will the menfolk beat the ice back home?”
Today these thoughts affect us not,
Today we’re fed, our houses hot,
The grocery store a mile away
And winter but another day.
Today we fight not for our lives
As the cold wind cuts like sharpened knives,
Today survival guaranteed
And comfortable indeed.
Do not forget that life or death
Was fought for with each passing breath
That winter was itself a war
That families readied year long for.
Be grateful for the warmth of house,
Be grateful for the food in mouth,
The price of death was tenfold paid
So we might have this life today….
Hail the Ancestors!
© Johnny Whitebread