Aquila:A Sea Voyage of Exploration (Nova Roma)

Salvete Omnes,

As there is a US national holiday today to honor one man who (with the help of many) "discovered" theAmericas; thought I'd present another view.

I wrote this poem to commerate the voyage of Leif the Lucky Ericksson.

It also springs from the feelings I have for this land upon which my forebears first set foot long ago.

To Vinland
Early Fall in the 1001st year of Vinland Reckoning

Foamy necked waves, break oer the shoal
Racing to wash, granite toothed beach
Greenish sea moss, garlands the rocks
Dark, wet and grey, set in the sand

The land ever waits, patient and hard
Always unchanged, uncaring, still
Beckoning those, who hear the call
Find me, find me, I lie in wait

Oaken sea steed, dances in mist
Crossing whale way, gull road taken
Into sunset, onward to West
Driven to prove, tales of new land

Ship's crew sings out, words to the sky
Odin, Ægir, Thor speed our way
Trust in the Gods, and strength of back
Steersman holds board, sets a true course

Long are the nights, longer the days
Grey backed swells, endlessly same
Evening stars bright, lead ever on
Darkened sky sheep, cloud gift fills kegs

Noise comes to ear, watcher hears roar
Breakers tumbling, whispering birds
Fading mist lifts, sight to behold
Lowslung land dark, oertopped with green

Beyond the beach, river's mouth gapes
Calling the crew, travel this way
Longship slips in, trout home to wend
Pull to the bank, landsmen again

Uneasy heads, fitfully rest
Dreaming a dream, unproven land
Unproven folk, unproven wealth
Unproven Gods, unproven Fate

Wake to the dawn, Sun smiling warm
Heavy branched trees, round fragrant lea
Firs like at home, and grasses too
Eagle's shrill cry, splits morning calm

Sights to behold, richness of beasts
Branch antlered stag, bushy tailed squirrel
Trees of strange hue, flowers not known
Wild grapes found, Vinland is named

Old crewman dies, tree falls awry
Grave hole is dug, then mound is raised
Kin bones in earth, strange place no more
Witnessed by death, Land Bond is made

Timber and fur, fruit, fish, and drink
Ship is laden, cargo for home
East points the prow, foam trail behind
Trackless travel, wooden hull glides

Tales of new land, rumor no more
Place now to go, homesteads to build
Wealth to be had, cargoes to gain
Hofs to hallow, children to bear

Long the years pass, many ships sail
From many lands, head to the West
Making a Home for Kin and Kith
Seeking ever frontiers to tread

Foamy necked waves break oer the shoal
Racing to wash, granite toothed beach
Greenish sea moss, garlands the rocks
Dark, wet and grey, set in the sand

The land ever waits, patient and hard
Always unchanged, uncaring, still
Beckoning those, who hear the call
Find me, find me, I lie in wait

valete - Venii