East winds

There is a hill
far in the east
no shadows touch
no winds do touch
The crone she sits
she crouches low
and watches us
there down below
Her lips are thin
her eyes are wide
her skin is old
and by her side
a raven on an icy stem
does nod to her
and stretches wings
it calls and flaps
as if to say
her time is near
its on its way
She will bring the frost
she brings the cold
she brings the time
where winds to blow
and lands afar
where night is king
she asks of him
to bring east winds
She is the crone
the winters night
the creature dark
who hunt at night
She brings the frost
she brings the snow
but also cares
that far below
the summer creatures
sleep quite warm
under her sisters
golden throne
Her time will come
her time will pass
when gods and sun
will live again
But now she waits
with ravens friend
her death will come
at winters end
and sleep again
and go below
and wait till the east winds
start to blow