I hear something call my name.

"I am here," I say.

Once again, I hear my name.

It is "Hebrides."

"I am here," I call to it,

Like a craggy rock 

Jutting from the sea.

I answer the mysterious call

With words on the fierce sea breeze.

And while my long hair blows wild in the wind,

And while I'm distracted by answering him,

A crow has landed next to me,

And he will report to Odin

What I'm busy with.

"What is she doing, Huginn?" Odin will say,

When he has a thought of me,

And if he has a memory, he sends Muninn.

But either way, the answer is always the same,

"Nothin'," the ravens always say.

And so, Odin stirs the Mead of Poetry

And drinks it, and asks himself

Why he is so good to me,

And what I might be up to,

And then he answers the questions himself,

And writes an ode to me,

Of heartbeats and respiration,

And calls to me on the wind again,

And again and again, I answer him.

"I am here," I say.

-jenn