BY ANJA LOBNIK
Radiant light and face so fair,
he chased away each hint of care.
A holy call, so pure and high,
he shone like starlight in the sky.
Son of Frigg and Odin the wise,
brother to Thor, with storm in his eyes.
He lived in the heavens, noble and grand,
a model of virtue in Asgard’s land.
His name was Baldr, glowing bright,
each breath of his a touch of light.
In innocence, his heart found peace,
his sacred strength would never cease.
He dreamt of death despite his youth,
a fear that stirred the harshest truth.
Frigg, with sorrow in her plea,
asked all of nature: “Let him be.”
Each plant and beast, each stone and flame,
promised Baldr would know no pain.
His song brought beauty, calm and grace,
and nature bloomed in his embrace.
The fairest god, so pure and kind,
he lifted every heart and mind.
Peace and justice, light and grace,
he wore them gently on his face.
Love he gave in endless streams,
and love returned in winds and dreams.
All of nature held him dear,
his heart so good, his soul sincere.
But deep within the glowing day,
a hidden flaw would find its way.
The mistletoe, so small, unseen,
escaped the oath and stayed between.
Loki wove a wicked scheme,
to silence nature’s gentle dream.
A dart he carved from mistle’s bough,
and fate was sealed with silent vow.
The gods stood still, their joy was torn,
as Baldr fell, the world did mourn,
his body, pure as heaven’s lace,
no song remained to fill the space.
To Hel he went, through shadow sent,
where even hope in sorrow bent.
And Hel decreed: “Let all things cry,
and then the god may rise and fly.”
But Loki’s trick denied the plea,
and broke the chain of destiny.
So on the Ringhorn, tall and wide,
they placed his form with solemn pride.
He burned, and stars began to wane,
as ash rose up in silent rain.
One sprig, one curse, had brought the fall –
a single branch that doomed them all.
Baldr, the angel from the skies,
fell as heaven wept its cries.
A symbol of the pure and brave,
the gods still honor him in grave.
Fellowship & Fairydust 