Patreon Song/Poem/Prayer 19 -For the Pre-Iron Age Ancestors

If you want to submit a request for a prayer, poem, or song to be written to you privately or to be posted on this blog or my Patreon for a God, Ancestor, or spirit, sign up for the Ansuz and above level here on my Patreon. This prayer was requested from Elfwort for the Pre-Iron Age Ancestors.

Standing stones marked by the work of your hands

Pieces of pottery, pieces of your lives

Bones and furs and metal

If I listen I can hear you

The drum pounding from centuries on centuries

The clack of wood on wood

The strain of sinew

I can see you

The dance around fires and trees and poles

The feasting around tables and benches

The kneeling, prostrating, genuflection before the holy places

I can smell you

The wood smoke of cooking and heating

The fresh rains on well-tilled earth

The sacred herbs burning

I can feel you

The embrace of countless hands

The support on my back, my soles, my shoulders, my head

The presence as we stand together

I can taste you

The plentiful foods that you have passed down

The bread, vegetables, and flesh prepared in your way

The drinks I have tasted, made by your guidance

I can sense you

The guidance you give me

The fierce love and protection your surround me in

The thousands of Beings who know me

Animals, plants, you knew them well

Stones and bones with which to craft, to fight

Waters and ways you knew by heart and head

You reach to me and you are here

Old Ancestors

I hail You!

The Old Ancestors’ Ways

You fear

The Old Ancestors’ ways

Steeped in blood? Yes.

If bloody Gods so repelled humanity

The crucifix would be barren

Jericho’s death knell would go unpraised

No Hajj would be taken up

 

No, what rankles

Is the old ways require sacrifice

Giving of oneself

Whatever one can

Oh yes there are the special offerings

First fruits

The best animal

Swords and spears bent, broken

Books full of sacred words

There are the gifts given equal in piety

Cups of water

Sacred herbs

Sweat and blood of oneself

Words offered up in earnest

 

You fear

For we are not most important

We are one among many

Skin, meat, blood, and bone living atop the Dead

Grass and mushrooms

Trees and mosses

Mice and bears

Ants and bees

Chickens and eagles

Fish and algae

Spirits eating spirits

Spirits offering spirits

Spirits thanking spirits

Spirits gifting spirits

Spirits fighting spirits

Spirits loving spirits

 

You fear

The Old Ancestors’ ways are lost

That we are merely grasping

Of course we are grasping!

We were ripped away from our Gods

We were ripped away from our Ancestors

We were ripped away from our spirits

Remember, though: They have been grasping for us, too

We are the living relationship over the wound-chasm

We are the living bridge between the Ancestors and descendants

We are the revivers of the Old Ancestors’ ways

We are the co-builders of the Ancestors’ ways

We are the co-builders of the descendants’ ways

 

Offer up that fear

That you will fail

That you are not enough

That you cannot be worthy

Offer up that fear

What stands between you

The Gods, Ancestors, and spirits

Grasp, grasp firm

For They are there

Revive what you can

Build the rest anew with Them