Once, stood I
by this sleepy sunset sea.
His sour gaze gone,
the sun;
eventually on his knee,
in mellow mutiny
upon molten melancholy.
Calmly, buoyed he
her creamy dreamy canopy
in colored, cuddled company
on the momentary brink
of honey coated eternity.
Gently,
the ***** of Rán
his flames of mead swam;
Kvasir's mythical lore,
dripping the mead of yore
o'er her pewter poverty
mulling the briny sore
of this late afternoon sea
from divine a golden door.
Thus, poetry laden
this marine a maiden,
now merry and awaken,
mulled with love molten,
sprawled into eternity,
in resplendent mutiny,
haunting and holden
with heavenly honey…
Rán is a mythological Norse goddess, whom I alluded to with deference when I had to close in on the intimacy between fire and water in the poem. Though not related to the depicted serene panorama in the poem, she has nine daughters, who personify waves. Hence, the phenomenon of the 'ninth wave', I guess.
Kvasir, on the other hand, was born of the saliva of the two warring families of Old Norse Gods, Æsir and the Vanir. When the war eventually ended, Gods from both lineage chewed berries and spat out the mush into a cask. This is how god Kvasir was created in the tale 'Mead of Poetry'.
Being the wisest one in Midgard, extraordinarily perceptive, sophisticated and poetic, he traveled far and wide, learning evermore and spreading his art. As fate would have it, his itchy feet brought him to the two murderous dwarfs Fjalar and Galar, who killed him afor his divine blood. Then, the notorious duo mixed it with honey, thus creating the Mead of Poetry.
Odin eventually redeemed Kvasir's legacy, the Mead of Poetry, after long a journey through testing tribulations. Since then, it is believed that Odin shares part of this drink with the very privileged human beings, bestowing upon them the divine ability, poetry.
Etymologically, Norwegian 'kvase' and Russian 'kvas', both mean 'fermented berry juice'.
:))