The Voelva's health

She languidly stepped over stones
leading from her fire-heated hut
to her sister Sophia's home in
the nearness of her neighborhood
in her familiar fine woods
The Voelva Vigga pondered
a pretty much hidden thought
she was having some internal
instant mutterings - murmurs
that her olden bones sputtered
she needed to take necessary care
of herself - her inner innards.
Step by step stone by stone
her feet fecklessly did not obey
her will too well - in short
they rebelled roughly roundaboutly
and she had to forcibly coerce
herself onto the willowy way.
Luckily she had brought her stick
Without any other thought
Then a wander in the woods
When one is wobbly on the feet
Is rarely a feasible feat - avoided
And abandoned at all might
- trodding along her well-worn path.
Seeing that Samhain had come
that it would be a full moon soon
thinking what she Vigga was
going to ask her  serene sister
about her health - what to heed
what to do when the panging pains
got to be to distressingly dolorous
she reached her highborn sister's hut
knocking before entering gently
huddled and almost haglike
Vigga the Voelva whispered her hello.

Her highborn sister Sophia - hastily
beckoned her visiting Voeva beamingly
Come-in and sit down, dear sister
Tell me what brings you here so
hastily and huddling - you are in pain?
No Vigga the Voeva answered - not
truly in torment but just a muddling
moving of my female inner innards
And it should not be like that -
Highborn sister looked at her sibling
smiling with a sadness of knowledge
Alas - albeit you do not have a pain
pounding within you - recognize
reality of the ages - cricks and cracks
here and there will be our lives - lest
we die and are freed from discomfort
It is how you cope congenially with
the whole arduous aging whatsit
We shall quaff an herbal tea and
celebrate ceremoniously that
pain and weird worries will prevail
posthumously but for today the positive
ideological idea of smiling serenely
is all it takes - Sophia poured from the pot
a cup of hot herbal essence to
Vigga the Voelva -  essentially forcing
her low-spirited sister to lighten up
and see that age is what age is
and if she gave in to internal ageism
then she would die dejectedly much
earlier and earnestly than expected.
Sophia - her sister would not let
a weakened voelva get away with it.
So Vigga after tasting the tea sparked
in the chalice that her sister had
handily offered her - she smiled
you placed some strong stuff
in this tea of yours -yellow bark
for fevers and golden dandelion
and a shot of weatherworn whisky
and something that I could not say?
Sophia the sister that Vigga the Voelva
loved like she was herself  smiled
and laughingly voiced with utter mirth.
Well -Vigga - to take the brunt off -
the sadness of your brainwaves -
you will be dancing on your way
to your homely hut with the hearth
and then light your fire once more
thinking that the winter will not
be that harsh and your heart's hot
blood will flow freely once more
when sunny spring returns with rapture
you will capture your inner self
and your warmth will spread its wings
flapping for freedom and felicity. 
With lighter foot steps Vigga Voelva
almost  sped to her hut near the brook -
healed not - but unbroken in spirit.