A departure no matter how sweet, never as much as the return
An old tongue roots himself again in my mouth
Reigns my words as they rise up behind my teeth
My lack of you is devout, and your return a worship may be
The knots we tie are ancient
I hear the cairns at the door to the nine realms whisper the words in my heart
You are missing, from me
Stones cry out when you hold your tongue
Do I know all things now
Or only those of little consequence to Odin