Contemplation

The autumn leaves were falling -
leaving her fairy tale behind
her dreamless summer in the north
in her healer's healthy hands
Vigga the Volva went daily
to the wise woman in her hut
in her capacity as a seeress.
Her perpetrator - her henchman
had left the healer - seeking
new life - somewhere else -.

Sophia, her highborn, wise sister,
came from her Guernsey Island trip
paying her respect to the grandmothers,
the stone figures from eons ago.
Vigga's sibling extolled the island
and told her that on next year's Beltane
she, Vigga, should go and daven for this life
near the two steles on the Island
just as Sophia herself had done.

"Come with me, sister, to Yggdrasil
and sit in the last warm sun this year"
the vibrant Volva Vigga smilingly said.
The sisters gingerly wandered waywardly
to the Yggdrasil which had been tendered
by the Volva's tears and tutelage,
the tree now so healthy and high-broughed.
"Dear Sophia", the Volva began beguilingly,
her red mane shone so shimmeringly -
the sun behind her made her into the beauty
of womanhood which can only be found from within.
Her choice to bear the next generation
was hers alone - nobody should take that away.
"I am with child and I shall give birth
around Beltane, so either we should go
in a couple of weeks or it will have to wait
until the child is born. It was conceived in love -
not in hate - so even though I know you will
say I am too old to bear the child, I shall."
Highborn Sophia, looked luminously
and showered a sunshine of smiles on her sister
shredding any serious doubts of the volva.
"I shall encourage your fruit come forth
with the everlasting help of the wise woman.
Has she inspected you with her healing powers?"
"I am fine and fit to bear, and if I take
her healthy potions, there is no real danger!"
Walking would do me endless good and,
I think, that a trip to grandmothers' graves
would be well for me, I feel fabulous."

Just after the fifth season's cool morns
with spiderwebs and deftly dew-covered branches
the two sisters set off on the journey to
visit their foremothers, fulfilling Sophia's
prompt promise to the stones of Lilith' long lines.
Bringing her sister to her past and present
seemed to Sophia, highborn and wise, utterly urgent,
now that the Volva Vigga was with child.
That way they could mayhap get a divination
of what would become the child's future.
At least they would deftly doven at the markers.

Crossing the sea the Volva was viciously sick -
the waves welled up as the boat carried the sisters
the grey skies doomed their journey?
Sophia, no longer sure of her decision,
held a soothing cloth to her sister's brow
while the ship's bow hacked its merry way
through the greyish dark waters of the Channel.

They arrived at St. Peter Port, the busy habour,
surrounding the seeking sisters with life.
It was market day and the wares of the vendors
seemed inviting to the sisters, specifically
to the now vacant Volva Vigga, her stomach growling
for food - and feeding - so they found a tavern
near the market to sit and devour the sights
and fill their bellies with fine food.
The Volva was quiet while eating, she relived
her summer of love with her merry merchant.
Was she doing the right thing by having his kind?
Each woman wonders and ponders the perpetual problem.

The two sisters rested in a timberfilled hostellerie
and set out the next morn to visit
the two grandmother steles from eons ago.
Sophia, highborn and familiar with the roads,
having just visited the island in the summer
led the way to the first of the stunning stones.

Vigga the Volva having slept well the night
after their full fill of morn repast
embarked on the rocky road to Saint Martin
in high spirit and good mood, walking briskly.
The sisters were admiring the cliffs' clearings
and the sea's deliciously carefree meanderings
on the beaches along the Fort Road
the pale autumnal light over the shimmering sea.

They reached the Church of Saint Martin
and found the first of the two ancient stones
she truly had a face of a grand mother.
It was not the angry ghost' countenance
but the stern serenity of years passing
and both Sophia and Vigga dovened there.
Quietly, the graveyard spoke to stillness,
and Vigga felt a quietness well inside her.
Listening to the millennia's women's fates,
she found herself stretching gently
touching the old stone stele with the womanly face.
Both sisters spent a long time in contemplation.

Sophia, the wise and highborn sister,
showed Vigga the Volva some of the other sights
of the fey island - descending deep down
under the earth where concealed caves craves
anybody's overt and obvious curiosity.
Henceforth, the two seeking sisters' fairy tales
of their fey foremother's, alas came up short -
for them the hollows were nothing, but holes.
"Strange, sister, I feel nothing" Vigga mused.
"Neither did I this summer, so these are not
for our kind, only for the fair fairies!"

After two days of mulling around Sophia took
her sibling to the other grand stele.
The Volva broke no fast in the morn
because sometimes she felt whoosy and weak.

In Castel near St. Peter's Port at St. Marie
a small church yard overlooking the village
stands the other grandmother, great rooted
in the graveyard, comtemplating her church
away from the village - thinking inwardly.
The Volva Vigga and her sister Sophia, wise
and highborn headed towards the granite stone.
The wind had died deftly down - almost noon
the sun was out casting autumnal shadows
the colors of the trees radiantly shone
not a sound, but waiting for the noon bell.

Vigga the Volva looked upon the village
behind the grandmother stele - Bing - bing
bing - the sun suddenly hid - bing - a gust
of wild wind blew some leaves off the trees
bing - the grandmother started to speak -
the Volva and her sister davened - fell on to
their knees - praying - bing - "You have come
to hear your child's fate" - bing - the Volva
almost could not breathe - bing - "it will be
silent" - "yet follow its own nature" - "guiding
life" - bing - "earth born" - "craftiness reign"
bing - bing - bing - the wind calmed clearly
the sun appeared scintillating suddenly
the sisters searched to compose themselves
rised and stood before the still stele.
The Volva thanked the stone and placed next
to the other trees on the outskirt of the graveyard
a seedling from Yggdrasil as well as a pebble
- a tiny rock she had found in Scotland -
perfect round and white, but with a greyish sheen -
she had put it in her cape and it almost forgotten.
Vigga had found the gem on a beach after a night
in lush lovemaking with her traveller-knight.
The Volva bade the grandmother accept the humble
but well travelled stone as a symbol of love
placing the stone just touching the stele
on top of the earth - and as she watched
the stone magically disappeared - embraced.

Vigga the Volva and her sister stayed the midday
and into the afternoon - but no more - nothing
was said. They observed how a few others came
and looked at the steele, gawkers and non-believers,
yet, when these folks came upon the stone
they became quiet - if only for a moment.