Forgotten Ground Regained
Aurgelmir
This poem is in Norse skaldic fornyrðislag meter.
I am before The face of a glacier;Odhin is beside me. “Ask,” he says,Naming me. “None shall answer,But I shall hear, As I always hear.”
The ice is numb, Knowledgeable, thick,Towers into sky. Tips awayTo left and right To leave me circled.But there is ground – Its grindings at my feet,
Heaped rocks, Heaved, discarded -So ice is not all – Instances of melt –Thor takes his namesake – Through my fingers,Sand and gravel Slip like days.
Taking up grains, Granular leavings,I face the giant: “The first of you, this!Ground at my feet, Graded to pebbles,All the little things From which large things are formed."
The roaring sands Rest where the seaOf ice ends.
Copyright © Math Jones, 1995
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