I know myself hanging there,
on that windy tree,
whose roots are unknown,
a sacrifice of myself to myself,
Wounded by my spear Gungnir,
for nine long nights and days I hung,
No food nor drink was brought to me,
Sinking into death they appeared,
Reaching out with a scream,
I grasped the runes,
and sunk from the tree,
with a sigh.

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Yggdrasil

Odin’s Horse.

Noblest of trees.

where Gods assembled daily at their courts.

Nine worlds sat around you.

Your branches stretched towards the heavens –

home of wyrm, eagle and stags.

Your roots in three directions -

to spring and wells.

Creator of the valley dew.

at the onset of Ragnarok

you shivered and giants walked the earth.

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