The planks and oarsmen
Groaned as one,
The wind began to blow,
And at the bow
Leif Erikson’s
Unease began to grow.
He’d put his trust
In Jesus now
And sailed to serve the Lord–
Yet Odin’s raven
Mocked him as
The longboat left the fjord.
Soon blown off-course,
He pulled aside
A slave in his distress,
And said, “Bring me
Your mistress, thrall,
Bring me the prophetess!”
The witch came forth,
Her robe bedecked
With skulls and precious stones,
And calling on
The Alfather,
She cast her ancient bones.
“What is it?”
Leif called out to her,
“What do the old bones say?”
“They say a man
Should trust his god
To guide him on his way.”
And so he prayed
To his new god
And soon a land was found
Where food and game
Were plentiful
And “wheat and grapes abound.”
michaeljordahl 