You read her oracles in the runes of birch treeswhite angles on dark forest
she is coming
in the scrawl of dead bracken,
the pattern of lichen on granite boulders,
the hunch of a bear’s shoulder,
the hieroglyphs of crows against the sky
she is coming, she is almost upon us
in the heavy bellies of the clouds,
the scrim of ice in still water,
the first white touch,…
she is here
she is born, gives birth, is born,
she has come,
she is here,
we will endure.
