Worthy

by Raven Kaldera

Of all the fair goddesses

Who give their gifts of love and beauty,
You are the one most concerned
With Worth.
What are you worth? you ask, and we twist
In our discomfort - how can you ask this?
Should we not all be equal in worth
In the eyes of love? Except, of course,
For those whom we despise. But how
To put a price on love, on devotion,
On desire? How can that be sacred?
Is it not wrong to be so material?
You laugh, like birdsong and bells.
How much devotion are you worth?
How much trust, how much honesty?
I ask because you sell yourself too short,
As so many do. In believing you should
Have no price, you give yourself dirt cheap
And with no expectation of value.
If you do not know your worth, you will not
Value yourself. Set a price, and stick to it.
Do not settle
Do not settle.

Do not settle.
This is the mantra of the Vanadis,
Who knows that four nights with her
Are well worth the most beautiful jewel
Ever made.
 Artwork by Blaer Naomi Ransburg.

For Freyja
by Ian Brokaw

Oh young Norse goddess with the hair so fair,

Spun to be as straight and golden,
As the supple ripe rye for which you care.

Your tears are the blood of the land you sow,

Spun into thread on your distaff,
From which tomorrow's corn we will grow.

Sewn into the land with your golden comb.

Your song will be sung far and wide,
Over the land which your soft wind will roam.

It blows across all the grassy meadows.

To the cows grazing in the fields,
And the souls being laid in the barrows.

Like a mother, you welcome lost souls home,

And offer them your love unbound,
Like the soothing words of a well-read tome.
To the seeds you plant in the ground.

(c) Ian Brokaw

Artwork, Hair, Makeup by Kat Morris. Photo by Nina Pak. Designer: Temna Fialka.