Yesteryear Fiction

Of Those Outside
By E.S. Wynn


As if in a haze, a fog,
I see her, a vision of the goddess
Freyja, clad in scars, clad in light,
Familiar fire flashed to flowering wings.
She has drunk from Mimir’s head
And returned to Folkvangr
Full of wisdom.

The hall echoes with the cuttings of memory,
But her heart paints the strokes of a different picture
Draws light from a brighter future
Of art, creation
That rises from the horizon
On strong, unbreakable wings.

I am here.
I will wait for her.
As I always have.
For there are none like her.


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E.S. Wynn likes to hide secret messages within his poetry and then leave them places where the people (or person) who are/is meant to see them just might stumble across them.