Vigga and her tree

Expressly - the end of her world
her wondrous tree Yggdrasil
standing up tall and vibrant
vegetated waiting for death
Vigga kept its kernel verdured
except in the happy height
of a glorious summer's day
it settled subtly for frigidity
she talked to it sitting at its foot
her eyes welled wishfully over
her saline compelling wet drops
hit the tree trunk at its receding roots
but to no appellant avail - .
Vigga the Voelva realized readily
that even she could not stop death
dousing the one taciturn being
to whom she had always turned
with her futile wishful tears
she now sat at its tall torso
and she waited until the cancer
had meticulously massacred
convulsively the rearmost root
with its stratagemic stranglehold.
She held the trunk tightly
as Yggdrasil finally yielded.
She sat next to the giant
who had given so gracefully
of itself to other living spirits
and she rested sadly ruffled
knowing that no one can change
the victory of destructive death
but in Yggdralsil's yellowing case
its whole being would take years
to its dreadful but sure demise.
Another alternative - Vigga the Voelva
thought animatronicly torn
between sorrow, anger and acceptance
would be to divide the tree up
and create new (albeit dead) objects
and objectively its appeal appalled
the sombre seeress - and she shook
her head in shock for even having
that slight thought - but as always
she would ask her wise sister Sophia
one day when her raw rage of anguish
had left her and she again would accept
that life takes turns - towards
an entirely randomized reality
you live and you die - and there is
nothing you can do - but bitterly
bow to this existence or with gratitude
smiling seeing in fond flashbacks
having known a tree named Yggdrasil.