My Blood, My Bones

A ONE-MINUTE read on DNA

Steinar Engeland on Unsplash.com ( edited )

The Norwegian winter is in my blood —

the winter of fisher-folk, of the builders of boats, and followers of the elk;

the winter of those who honored their dead, who numbered the gods of Asgard, and saved their joy for the afterlife.

The fury of Vikings is in my bones —

the fury of rapacious thieves who found no contentment in what they stole, and, still, they wanted more;

the fury of those who believed in the power of men and the strength of women, but had no belief in the sanctity of a human life.

Though distant in time, I am yet plagued —

plagued by the malevolent inkubus that comes in the night to sit on my chest, and stifle my breath as I sleep;

plagued by the dark Nordic ethos, and by the stories of Tormod and Svale, of Hilda and Agmund, whose families were torn apart.

My blood and my bones carry the cries of souls who were lost at sea. They feel the hunger of a kingdom lost, and they know the rage of the failed hunter.

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MYRKUR. Gudernes Vilje ( The Will of the Gods ) 2020

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Sharron Bassano