Mother Night
All the world was covered in a white frosting, shining under a slice of the moon.
Like a pale rising star on this Mother Night, shines upon the moor a bright noon.
We huddled as feeble field mice in the frigid fright and dare the disir for a boon.
Humble boasting and well wishing, to the Norns the crowd will croon
You weave the wyrd, from babies to old crones we grow too soon.
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mother night- christmas eve, disir - ancestral spirits [female], norns-weavers of
wyrd/fate
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