Wrath of Frost Giants?

Continuing the trend of poems that are a bit different from what’s usually on this blog, I’ve written a poem about the extreme cold that much of the United States experienced at the time of this post. It is in four stanzas of ljóðaháttr. Its title is “Wrath of Frost Giants?”

The Cold has come
to our Commonwealth;
the Freeze is pouring forth.
Is it focused wrath
from frost giants?
Or something else thats seeps?

The North has arrived
in a needful visit,
calling her kin to awaken.
What breaks through
in the bitter cold?
Is it the awe of glorious gods?

Is Ull’s essence
in the actions of winter?
In this does his being be?
Or does Skaði seek
to ski in the snow
or freedom from a spell of fever?

In the crackling cold,
give call to the gods,
and look for the life of giants.
In its freaky physics,
find the numinous;
in the strange and odd take awe.

Copyright © 2014 Eirik Westcoat.
All rights reserved.

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