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Robert Calvert

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Robert Calvert

The Making Of Midgard

There had always been the unearthly dark of fathomless absence

Until, from the North, came Niflheim, where legions of freezing shadows lurked and the twelve-fold nations of Bergelmir crawled

And then, from the south, came Muspellsheim's inferno of flaring yellow flames

The abyss was crystalled by the Northern frost that breath from the burning south made melt and from this fusion there was made the towering troll: immense Ymir

From whose slain body's blood the sword of Odin caused the oceans. And from whose carcass he claimed the Earth

Man-trod Midgard was all his flesh, from the bulk of his bones were the mountains made and from his tangled hair: the trees

His hollowed skull was hauled to form the vaulted sky where the Gods assembled constellations. In their cauldron Alchemized the sun

To runic wands of task it turned until at last, the first veined-blade of grass had grown