May the North Wind blow her breath on the sterility within me, within this nation, this world.
May it form an icicle that Thor’s Hammer can shatter into a trillion pieces.
May the Spring Sun shine her gentle light and encourage seedlings of fecundity to grow in the void.
May the Spring Rains cause them to grow in strength and nourish the beautiful rich soil transformed from the blood of the wound.
May beautiful flowers burst forth in an array of colour and variety. So, when Autumn comes, there are no regrets as we enrich the soil of our lives.
Deeply rooted we can gladly let go of our youthful years as we feed others with the richness of our being.
Then and only then can we embrace her with delight and expectation; the winter of our years.
For we shall know that we have lived purposefully and left a legacy of love and wisdom for those who come after us.