So now I am inspired to do a month of devotional poetry and song for Gefjon. I am counting the two prayers I last posted for the start of this project. This is the prayer I wrote for Her yesterday. I will have another prayer for Her later today.
Charming of the Plow Prayer to Gefjon
If any know how to Charm the Plow, it is You
If any know the work of claiming land, it is You
If any know the work of tilling the darkness of Jörð, it is You
If any know how to carefully cultivate the grove, it is You
If any know the work of bringing in a hearty harvest, it is You
If any know the work of a well hewn hall, it is You
If any know the work of a healthy hof, it is You
If any know the sacred work of the gyðja’s charge, it is You
Inspired by Galina Krasskova’s Agon dedicated to Gefjon, I wrote these two poems.
A Hailing Prayer to Gefjon
Hail to Gefjon, Far-seeing Goddess!
Hail to Gefjon, Who knows Her own Worth!
Hail to Gefjon, Who shapes liche and hame!
Hail to Gefjon, Who drives hard Her Oxen!
Hail to Gefjon, Who plowed and claimed Zealand!
Hail to Gefjon, Who claims Her own pleasure!
Hail to Gefjon, whose halls house the virgins!
Hail to Gefjon, Ásynja!
Hail to Gefjon, Mother of Jotnar!
Hail to Gefjon, Whose Consort is Skjöldr!
Hail to Gefjon, Whose Plow is Mighty!
Hail to Gefjon, Whose Courses are Swift!
Hail to Gefjon, Whose Lands are Fertile!
Hail to Gefjon, Whose Ways are Wise!
Land-finding Prayer to Gefjon
We seek, we seek land of our own
Growing green and good
We ask Gefjon to lend us your aid
So we may settle soon!
We ask for land for orchards
We ask for land for grain
We ask for land for goat, hive, and lamb
Whose harvests shall be great!
We seek, we seek a place to build
A hof to call our own
Where we can raise a horn to You
Within our hallowed home!
Our son wanted me to share his prayers for Sunna and Mani here. He wrote the prayer to Mani first. When he wrote it, he surprised me. When he had finished that, I encouraged him to write a prayer for Sunna the next day, but aside from that, I had no input on them. I got to let him be while he wrote them. I’m very proud of him. ^_^
Prayer to Mani by Kiba
Guider of the moon’s path
Rider of the moon-cart
Drawn by Your large dogs.
Hail Mani! God of the moon! Light our path
While shining on even
The darkest of nights.
My prayer to Sunna by Kiba
Melter of the thick ice
Evaporator of streams and lakes
And rivers and oceans too.
Today is one of many days
In the season where you
Shine your light upon us humans.
Hail Sunna! Goddess of the
Light that helps our food grow.
Thank you for the life that you have given us.
I went outside and there were Gods and spirits dancing.
The storm-etins danced among the thunderbirds
Thor and Farbauti struck through the air
Odin whirled overhead
I smoked, offering up prayers to all of Them
As I did I saw:
Lightning illuminated the Raven
It tore at the cloud-man’s guts
The intestines roping out of him
The Raven gorged
I saw a bolt of lightning and it croaked like a Raven
I looked to my left and there was a great Wyrm
Open mouthed in the lightning-light
It twisted through the air, wings wide
The thunder was not Its voice, but the clap of its wings
As it flew along the East
May Eir and Mengloth bless those in harm’s way
May the healers be careful, skilled, and compassionate
May Thor protect those in harm’s way
May the communities be safe from harm, secured by His Hammer
May Loki, Angrboda, and Sigyn bring laughter, protection, and perseverance
May mirth, solidarity, and determination lift up those harmed and grieving in this tragedy
May Tyr and Forseti bring justice to the Dead, to the families, to all those harmed
May justice be done, lawful and swift
May Freyr, Gerda, and Freya bring Their love, sensuality, and vitality
May we celebrate ourselves together, and with Them, stand by those we love
May Odin and Frigga bring wisdom to the leaders
May action be guided by wisdom, may work be guided by insight
May Hela take up the Dead
May She bring Them comfort and care
May the Landvaettir be heard
May They, too, have justice, and may Their needs be met
May The Dead hear the calls of Their loved ones
May They know They are remembered, and may those They left behind be comforted
May the newly-Dead be long-remembered
May They be remembered for more than Their deaths; may Their lives be remembered well
The road rushes past
My cigar glows in my hand
The rainvaettir come down, a billion upon billion rattling dancers
The road, the car, all full of the sound of Their feet
The road rushes past and I see it
The first lightning bolt of the season here
Arc through the sky, behind the clouds
A silhouetted dancer
Whose drumming partner pounds and the sky shakes
Tendrils of smoke out the window and up to you all
The Thunderbird People
The Jotuns of storms
The Spirit of Storms
I call to you and say your names as Midgard fills with stomps with billions of feet
As the skies split with the fury of dancers and beating of wings
As the wind shakes and the clouds let loose the crowds
As the drumming thunderers crash and clash
The Worlds are alive and here
The Worlds are alive and there
and I am thankful to bear witness
Trying to grasp the ineffable
With fumbling hands and tongue
Reaching, stretching, trying
To bring the mind to order
The soul-deep to expression
The innermost understanding to bare expression
Stripped of majesty, shorn of glory
Dirt lying on the tongue, begging for water
O, the skin is dry!
Fill me, let me give water or wine
Give me words, give me words, give me words!
To express, to adulate, to bring You closer
To bring some part of You near
To drink and quench my thirst
To give and quench others’ thirst
To speak and share the stories
To create again and again
with each telling
The Worlds, Your births, Your deaths
Create and destroy and inspire and sacralize
Break and build and love and lose
Enliven and ensoul and enshrine and edify
Fill and free and craft and cleave
Let a billion tongues be sated by the waters of Your stories
a billion throats raised in song and word
a billion eyes enthralled by plays and stories
a billion ears entranced by hymns and teachings
For all Your stories and songs are precious
and all are the teachings tellings in their turn
holy, powerful, sacred
Let them be told and told again
Let them be sung and sung again
Passed on and on
That even those without an ear for music or a tongue for tales
may know You each in their own turn
and pass on in their way this knowing