An Aesir poem: The White Dragon, Old Germanic Reminiscence.

dragon_bird_by_therafa-d6uw7po

High Omens

The black Aesir wolf watches,

Forsaken by God,

We make claims to be gods,

Forgotten by angels

We blame the heavens for our undoing,

Ambrosius is our calling,

This child brings new tidings,

Hope for life and peace for the weary.

Worn out by wars and treachery.

At last the once ill omen,

Is now renewed, rekindled by a new light.

The hero arises and his omen is,

The white dragon,

Feathered and changed to soar high,

and overcome great lows.

Change, adaptation and evolution of our perspectives.

Thoughts rejoiced the ground shifts.

There is now quiet where there once was noise.

When Aesir’s wolf sleeps,

The dawning of warring man pass,

There will be music, high creature and low creature,

Speak in song of harmony,

In this time of triumph the white dragon will be the medium,

Grace, Mercy and Dedication will be the thriving virtues.

Because we are swimming in abundance,

Prepared for any dark encounters,

Strategy and tactics are readied at hand for the accord.

Arrow pinned through the apple our surgical precision is lethal,

Life is fair, just and sound.

At long last,

But it is not time,

For this is the calm before the storm,

Prepare to meet at the heart of the storm,

Because our biggest trial is yet to be.

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