Winterfylleð – The Promise Beneath the Frost The harvest sleeps in furrowed soil,The fields grow still, the mists roilTo silver veils on meadow and tree,As winter claims the land we see. The leaves fall softly, gold to brown,And twilight lays its mantle down.Yet in the dark, beneath the cold,Lie…
Winterfylleð – The Promise Beneath the Frost
The harvest sleeps in furrowed soil,The fields grow still, the mists roilTo silver veils on meadow and tree,As winter claims the land we see. The leaves fall softly, gold to brown,And twilight lays its mantle down.Yet in the dark, beneath the cold,Lie seeds of hope not yet grown old. Oh Nerþum, Mother of the ground,
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