Serendipity

Summer was waning softly of late
September days varied in humour
raining a little, sunshine gallore
and the warmth woolled over
the hay as it was harvested
all over the middle lands
of rolling hills and mild apple trees
not quite ready to be picked.
On the road beginning southwards
finding a finicky fork where
if one travels that road
you will have to decide - left or right!
Vigga the Völva and her herbalist Samuel
of Yoshua's tribe had heartily spent
a summer's worth of delight in the highlands
shielded by gentle elves and meerfolks
along the coast where they were visiting
needy people and where the herbs did well.
Now the tradesman's coffer was full,
but his stock empty, and the little
the Völva could add to his herbs
was not enough to keep them north forever.

They were standing at a crossroad
he was heading south towards the mainland,
his trades routes, and his faraway fables;
she was leaning towards the western worlds
where the old folks tall tales and spins
spun a telling thread of memories
of familiar foster of friendly faces,
yet with a dread of the castrated cad.
She missed her sister, the healing woman,
Yggdrasil, her brook, the elves, everything
known to her singular solid self.
Sebastian wanted her to tag along on his terms,
but being a seeress, a sibyl, a Völva Vigga
resolves sadly that her dilemma was not with him
it was within her, yes she had gotten
her freedom back, her seeing was stronger,
her herbalist has helped her whence forth,
she did not feel that necessary for him.
Her bosom had begun to swell again,
her moon flow had shortly stopped -
she needed not to be on the rocky road
to somewhere unknown - .

That night in her trader's arms
she dreamt of being under Yggdrasil
at Samhain. When she woke up
she said good bye to her healer
wandering off - her head up
waving to her herbalist whilst
the morning dew danced welcoming
her home to known lands with hope
for a new fate - the fairy tale -
spinning a future of freedom of choice.