Yggdrasil in Mid Winter
Did green represent greed and envy even to the ancient
Norse?
Their little squirrel who somehow had sprouted a single
horn,
perhaps to balance out the weight of its bottle brush tail,
was green and bore its gossip from the Tree’s Eagled tip
to the Tree’s root where
the serpent was held caged.
The Tree stood Stoic against the nibblings of it’s root, it’s
bark, it’s leaves,
gnawed and plucked, and claw scratched and beak sharpened.
Within the Tree hides the true meaning of the green, safe
yet,
long after the biting roll of the Ice Giants’ dark frost
when only the stump now remains.
Peel back the moss,
gently open up the toughened rind, beneath the rot,
between the rings which still stand to be counted –
there in the core is the green – fed by the touch of new
root
to the perishing old; the green holding the centre steady,
living still.
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