Submission to Sigyn’s Agon

Gangleri's Grove

“For Sigyn”
by P.S.V.L.

In Her bowl is collected
the bile of a thousand angry Deities
the poison of a thousand fiery serpents
the tears of ten thousand lamenting women

But also
the love of a heart a thousand strong
the devotion of souls ten thousand standing
the sighs of wind and caves a hundred thousand years old

The heaviest of burdens
in hands gentle and dainty
but battle-hardened with care for her task
repeated for millennia

Let us honor Her
and the One She also honors
by Her holding of the bowl
collecting love and sorrows mingled together

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Two Submissions to Sigyn’s Agon

Gangleri's Grove

Remember, Sigyn’s Agon ends at 9pm EST tonight!

“She Endures”
By J.M. Gorham

Drip
Drip
Drip

~Splash~
Salty Tears
Venom Burns
Sweat Beads
Waves Ripple

Lady of Devotion
Lady of Sacrifice
Catching Venom

Drip
Drip
Drip

~Splash~
Her arms shake
His eyes meet Hers
Love washes through Her
Devotion fortified

Her muscles Stiffen
Strength flows through Her
Once again, His Hero

~Splash~
Her flesh burns
Venom biting
Her pain turns into Love

Drip
Drip
Drip

Enduring
Devotion
She Remains

*************

To the Lady of Endurance
by Amanda Artemisia Forrester

Some may find it strange
That You are named Victory Woman
When You have endured so much pain
The death of Your sons
The imprisonment of Your beloved Husband
Starvation and cold that you suffer at His side
As You hold the bowl over His head
Catching the poison as it
Drip
Drip
Drips
Into eternity
Until the final day comes

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Submission for Sigyn’s Agon

Gangleri's Grove

Confession
by Dr. E. Kelly

I made a mistake once
And took You for the loser girlfriend of a loser God.
You could sew my lips shut for saying so
Certainly the same thing’s been done before
And that punishment was for insulting a dwarf
Much less a Goddess

You, however, are merciful
You are mercy Herself
Seething grief and rage corrodes like venom
Dribbling, well-earned on Your husband’s forehead
Tit for tat, tit for tat, tit for tat
This is the sound the drops make as they fall

You interrupt that righteous anger of the Aesir
You interpose yourself
Lifting a bowl to catch the drops of liquid pain
You come between crime and punishment

And He can breathe
A moment’s peace

When every bond is broken and all Hel breaks loose
When He comes crazy-eyed and howling at the helm of all that was held down
I’ll be…

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Submission to Sigyn’s Agon

Gangleri's Grove

SIGYN
by Fiona Y.

Enfold me again, in white feather warmth
Blossom scented Sigyn,
Delicate, as the slightest breeze
Yet with Audhumlas’ nurturing strength.
You, whose sweet song
Guides me to Ginnungapaps’ balmy heart
Where I find You dancing,
Free as a bird.
Your laughter is joyful.
You are sweetness, my goddesss
You, a young girl,
Rambling through Your garden of herbs.
You, an older girl,
Drawing the heart of the flame haired god.
You nourished me,
When I was most worn
And tho You come gently,
Sigyn, I know that Yours is a will of steel.
For Loki’s wife is strong
She has endured loss and venom and scorn.

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First Submission to Sigyn’s Agon

Gangleri's Grove

For Sigyn
by Thomas S.

Thomas S. says: After reading your prompt for the Sigyn Agon, I sat and wrote the following in one sitting. I suppose I would describe it as imagining what it would have been like for Sigyn and Loki exiting the cavern, from Sigyn’s perspective. Please leave a note that this submission is merely a fiction dedicated to Sigyn, not a claim to any visionary experience of Her life. 🙂

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And His chest heaves like a ship trapped against the rocks, each wave cracking the hull deeper yet. The eyes swirl in their sockets as blizzard snow, seeing not even horror now, the whites gone crimson, envenomed tears of mucus coursing down. His mouth is Ginnungagap, not screaming.

I will not speak of why We gained Our freedom, not here.

The coils of Our slaughtered Son’s bowel I sling about My shoulders, and the ropes…

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The Road Home

mainer74

Thor-Vikings-Odin-Loki-panels-1566510-1920x1080.png

A thousand years ago, our ancestors understood the traditions we try to embrace today.  They lived in a world where they walked with their ancestors, knew the wights of the lands and waters, made peace with the jotnar of the high mountains and raging rivers, learned the alfs of the wild places.   The gods and goddesses held a place for them that was something we can only imagine, for they learned how everything fit together from their first breath, first step. There was no word for what they did, for it was no more possible to separate their practice from their life, than it was to separate their breath from their body and continue to live.


A foreign smoke stole that breath from the body of our ancestors, and the living faith died a long time ago.  The path they walked we cannot.  What they knew, we can only guess…

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