As the years passed Wainamoinen
Recognized his waning powers,
Sang his farewell song to Northland,
To the people of Wainola;
Sang himself a boat of copper,
Beautiful his bark of magic;
At the helm sat the magician,
Sat the ancient wisdom-singer.
Westward, westward, sailed the hero
O’er the blue-back of the waters,
Singing as he left Wainola,
This his plaintive song and echo:
“Suns may rise and set in Suomi,
Rise and set for generations,
When the North will learn my teachings,
Will recall my wisdom-sayings,
Hungry for the true religion.
Then will Suomi need my coming,
Watch for me at dawn of morning,
That I may bring back the Sampo,
Bring anew the harp of joyance,
Bring again the golden moonlight,
Bring again the silver sunshine,
Peace and plenty to the Northland.”
~Kalevala / Rune 50 (John Martin Crawford translation)
Some day, if you are lucky,
you’ll return from a thunderous journey
trailing snake scales, wing fragments
and the musk of Earth and moon.
Eyes will examine you for signs
of damage, or change
and you, too, will wonder
if your skin shows traces
of fur, or leaves,
if thrushes have built a nest
of your hair, if Andromeda
burns from your eyes.
Do not be surprised by prickly questions
from those who barely inhabit
their own fleeting lives, who barely taste
their own possibility, who barely dream.
If your hands are empty, treasureless,
if your toes have not grown claws,
if your obedient voice has not
become a wild cry, a howl,
you will reassure them. We warned you,
they might declare, there is nothing else,
no point, no meaning, no mystery at all,
just this frantic waiting to die.
And yet, they tremble, mute,
afraid you’ve returned without sweet
elixir for unspeakable thirst, without
a fluent dance or holy language.
- By Geneen Marie Haugen
- Found at Feathers and Bones
What magnetic pull
we are drawn to at the end
of our light, the darkness
encircles us with her strength.
There is no escape
from the unknown expanse.
She brings you to the badlands.
She carries you to the dry barren
stretch of sky
where the stars too have been extinguished.
Hawks cry their parting love.
Women wail and she heeds
their pleas with unyielding love.
As all are born,
so too must they go.
into the dark expanse.
~Jeszika Le Vye
If we are fortunate,
we are given a warning.
there is only the sudden horror,
the wrench of being torn apart;
of being reminded
that nothing is permanent,
not even the ones we love,
the ones our lives revolve around.
Life is a fragile affair.
We are all dancing
on the edge of a precipice,
a dizzying cliff so high
we can’t see the bottom.
One by one,
we lose those we love most
into the dark ravine.
So we must cherish them
We will lose them
or they will lose us
This is certain.
There is no time for bickering.
And their loss
will leave a great pit in our hearts;
a pit we struggle to avoid
during the day
and fall into at night.
unable to accept this loss,
unable to determine
the worth of life without them,
jump into that black pit
spiritually or physically,
hoping to find them there.
And some survive
the barren, empty aching,
the unanswered prayers,
the sleepless nights
when their breath is crushed
under the weight of silence
and all that it means.
Somehow, some survive all that and,
like a flower opening after a storm,
they slowly begin to remember
the one they lost
in a different way…
the irrepressible spirit,
the generous heart,
the way their smile made them feel,
the encouragement they gave
even as their own dreams were dying.
And in time, they fill the pit
with other memories
the only memories that really matter.
We will still cry.
We will always cry.
But with loving reflection
more than hopeless longing.
And that is how we survive.
That is how the story should end.
That is how they would want it to be.
I am not resigned to the shutting away of loving hearts in the hard ground.
So it is, and so it will be, for so it has been, time out of mind:
Into the darkness they go, the wise and the lovely. Crowned
With lilies and with laurel they go; but I am not resigned.
Lovers and thinkers, into the earth with you.
Be one with the dull, the indiscriminate dust.
A fragment of what you felt, of what you knew,
A formula, a phrase remains, — but the best is lost.
The answers quick and keen, the honest look, the laughter, the love,
They are gone. They have gone to feed the roses. Elegant and curled
Is the blossom. Fragrant is the blossom. I know. But I do not approve.
More precious was the light in your eyes than all the roses in the world.
Down, down, down into the darkness of the grave
Gently they go, the beautiful, the tender, the kind;
Quietly they go, the intelligent, the witty, the brave.
I know. But I do not approve. And I am not resigned.
~Edna St Vincent Millay
I am the Life and the Light and the Way.
The earth is my garden.
Each of the souls I plant as seeds
Germinates and flowers in its season
And in each I am fulfilled.
There is no cause for grief
When a blossom fades
But only rejoicing for the beauty it held
And praise that my will is done
And my plan served.
I am one with all creatures
And none is ever lost
But only restored to me
Having never left me at all.
For what is Eternal
Cannot be separated from its Source.
I am with you all,
And each of you is a channel for my Light.
Feel my Love
Enfold you now and evermore.
From: The Book of Runes
I have the power to bend a man,
to break his spirit and crush his plans.
I can make the world stand still,
I can make the frozen heart feel.
I can cure the sick and heal the mind,
but I can destroy and I can bind.
I can bring peace to a raging war,
or I can bring hate right to your door.
I can mend your battered pride,
I can make you die inside.
I am love and I am despair,
and all the things in the shadows there.
Yet with all the power I command,
I am tossed around like gains of sand.
Oh the good I could do if only I was heard,
such a massive thing, the power of a word.
~ Mystic Firefly
Rúnatal or Óðins Rune Song, Rúnatáls-þáttr-Óðins (stanzas 139-146) is a section of the Hávamál where Odin reveals the origins of the runes. In stanzas 139 and 140, Odin describes his sacrifice of himself to himself:
I wot that I hung on the wind-tossed tree
all of nights nine,
wounded by spear, bespoken to Óthin,
bespoken myself to myself,
[upon that tree of which none telleth
from what roots it doth rise]
Neither horn they upheld nor handed me bread;
I looked below me–
aloud I cried–
caught up the runes, caught them up wailing,
thence to the ground fell again.
From the son of Bolthorn, Bestla’s father,
I mastered mighty songs nine,
and a drink I had, of the dearest mead,
got from out of Óthrærir.
Then began I to grow and gain in insight,
to wax eke in wisdom:
One verse led on to another verse,
one poem led on to the other poem.
Runes wilt thou find, and rightly read,
of wondrous weight,
of mighty magic,
which that dyed the dread God,
which that made the holy hosts,
and were etched by Óthin.
Óthin among Æsir, for alfs, Dain,
Dvalin for the dwarfs,
Alsvith among etins, (but for earth-borne men)
wrought I some myself.
Know’st how to write, know’st how to read,
know’st how to stain, how to understand,
know’st how to ask, know’st how to offer,
know’st how to supplicate, know’st how to sacrifice?
‘Tis better unasked than offered overmuch;
for ay doth a gift look for gain;
’tis better unasked than offered overmuch:
thus did Óthin write ere the earth began,
when up he rose in after time.
Those spells I know which the spouses of kings
wot not, nor earthly wight:
“Help” one is hight, with which holpen thou’lt be
in sorrow and care and sickness.
That other I know which all will need
who leeches list to be:
(on the bark scratch them of bole in the woods
whose boughs bend to the east).
That third I know, if my need be great
to fetter a foeman fell:
I can dull the swords of deadly foes,
that nor wiles nor weapons avail.
that fourth I know, if foemen have
fettered me hand and foot:
I chant a charm the chains to break,
so the fetters fly off my feet,
and off my hands the halter.
That fifth I know, if from foemans’s hand
I see a spear sped into throng,
never so fast it flies but its flight I can stay,
once my eye lights on it.
That sixth I know, if me someone wounds
with runes on gnarled root written,
or rouses my wrath by reckless speech:
him blights shall blast, not me.
That seventh I know, if o’er sleepers’ heads
I behold a hall on fire:
however bright the blaze I can beat it down–
that mighty spell I can speak.
That eighth I know which to all men is
needful, and good to know:
when hatred runs high, heroes among,
their strife I can settle full soon.
That ninth I know: if need there be
to guard a ship in a gale,
the wind I can calm, and the waves also,
and wholly soothe the sea.
That tenth I know, if night-hags sporting
I scan aloft in the sky:
I scare them with spells so they scatter abroad,
heedless of their hides,
heedless of their haunts.
That eleventh I know, if I am to lead
old friends to the fray:
under buckler I chant that briskly they fare
hale and whole to battle,
hale and whole from battle:
hale where ever they are.
That twelfth I know, if on tree I see
a hanged one hoisted on high:
thus I write and the runes I stain
that down he drops
and tells me his tale.
That thirteenth I know if a thane’s son I shall
wet with holy water:
never will he fall, though the fray be hot,
nor sink down, wounded by sword.
That fourteenth I know, if to folk I shall
sing and say of the Gods:
Æsir and alfs know I altogether–
of unlearned few have that lore.
That know I fifteenth which Thjóthrærir sang,
the dwarf, before Delling’s door:
gave to Æsir strength, to alfs victory
by his song, and insight to Othin.
That sixteenth I know, if I seek me some maid,
to work my will with her:
the white-armed woman’s heart I bewitch,
and toward me I turn her thoughts.
That seventeenth I know, (if the slender maid’s love
I have, and hold her to me:
this I sing to her) that she hardly will
leave me for other man’s love.
In this lore wilt thou, Loddfáfnir, be
unversed forever and ay:
thy weal were it, if this wisdom thine–
’tis helpful, if heeded,
’tis needful, if known.
That eighteenth I know which to none I will tell,
neither maid nor man’s wife–
’tis best warded if but one know it:
this speak I last of my spells–
but only to her in whose arms I lie,
or else to my sister also.
Now are Hár’s sayings spoken in Hár’s hall,
of help to the sons of men,
of harm to the sons of etins;
hail to whoever spoke them, hail to whoever knows them!
Gain they who grasp them,
happy they who heed them!
Of all the Rune Poems I found, this one is my favorite. Rune poems are a way to remember the sound, shape, and symbolism of each individual Rune. The following poem is a modern take on the old poems.
Cows, like gold,
Flow from the king;
Generous with wealth,
Avoiding the wolf.
Aurochs show strength,
Drive out the dross.
The cosmic cow
Brings the rains.
Thorns are sharp,
Painful to sit upon.
Giants bring illness,
Bad luck to women.
Mouth begins language,
A wise start for all.
The All-Father comes
From the opening-place.
Riding upon a horse,
Who carries you forth.
Worse for him than you,
But speedy for both.
Torch blazes in the hall
Where folk find rest;
It burns to the touch,
And dangerous for children.
Gifts are the responsibility
of those who have much.
Generous folk are loved
and known by all.
Joy comes from freedom,
Which lightens the load.
The gift of the unknown:
Not knowing brings bliss.
Hail is coldest of grains,
And death of serpents.
It beats the earth,
And melts into water.
Need gives no choice,
Hard work is its cure.
Children who learn from it
Will grow wise as they age.
Ice is beautiful,
A sight to behold;
It is the roof of rivers,
And a danger to cross.
Year is the patience,
The harvest we reap
At the end of our toils.
A blessing on the folk.
Yew, greenest of trees:
Upheld by deep roots
You guard the fire
And the bow bends in you.
Dice-cup is the piece
Bringing laughter to all:
The luck of the roll
Shows them their fate.
Protected by blades,
Growing in waters
At the edge of the land.
Sun, the highest hope,
That lights the land;
Victory over the ice.
Shining ray, sky shield.
Tir is the north star,
Guiding the folk aright.
Truth and justice shine
Where his hand is placed.
Birch is the fertile one
Who grows when cut.
Branches reach skyward,
A strong crown of leaves.
Horses, joy of princes,
Give rest to the folk.
Sacred to the gods.
Man is joy to his fellow,
But one day he may fail.
Rejoice now in each other,
For the future is unknown.
Water wells up from below,
Flows from the mountain,
Shines with bright gold;
Seek treasures within.
Ing came from the east,
Hero and king to all.
Over the sea he traveled,
The world comes into bloom.
Day is given unto us,
Rich and poor alike:
Filled with mirth and song,
A boon to the pious.
Inheritance holds fast;
The ancestors bring forth
Wealth that never dies.
Joy and peace to the folk.
Rune poems were created as mnemonic aids for remembering the rune symbols, their names, meanings and properties. There are a number of runic poems, and the meanings given vary slightly with each rendition and translation. This one is a modern meditation on the Anglo-Saxon Rune Poem.
- Feoh: wealth
Wealth should flow,
to promote the common good.
Sellers, buyers, investors, and the taxing authorities
portion out between them
the incomes of the folk.
Money sitting idle
causes only harm.
- Ur: the wild ox
One must grab life’s challenges by the horn’s
to ride the waves of one’s wyrd.
Before such a powerful one
the world becomes one’s domain.
- Thorn: the thorn
and planes fall out the skies.
That is the nature of things
and not always evil in intent.
Even good people sometimes cause
good people harm.
- Os: language
The worlds came into being thru
the crashing sounds of fire and ice.
Sound and the maker sounds
the divine word is spoken.
Wisdom and tradition
give comfort to the folk
in times of great changes.
- Rad: riding
When one sits in one’s home
everything looks so easy;
talk is easier than action.
To walk in another’s shoes
and do better,
that is a most difficult task.
- Cen: the torch
The inner light which is never extinguished
brightens the dark weary world.
This body is a great hall;
the mind sits in the body’s high seat.
The call to faith
a torch carrying procession.
- Gyfu: the gift
The giver and the giftee
form a circle of obligation.
As these are the bonds
which form true community.
Tho one can give too much
and receive that which one doesn’t want.
- Wyn: joy
It is bliss to reach the state of happiness:
no suffering, no sorrows, great joy.
To have the necessities of life
and to be able to help others.
Even in a reversal of fortune
one who is truly free
can still find joy
in this world and in other realms.
- Haegl: hail
Even a good life has its days.
As a hard rain good for the crops
turns to a hail storm that flattens them.
Even then the bad times don’t last;
even the thickest hail
- Nyd: need
Need is the manifestation of desire;
the bondage of will to the external object.
It can be oppressive
but it can also be the key to liberation.
In organizing with others
bonds of oppression can be broken.
- Is: ice
Ice driven back by fire;
mists of crashing cosmic forces.
A space for the nine worlds was created
along with the body (ice)
and the energies (fire).
- Ger: the year
The sky wolves have retreated;
Sunna warms the land below.
Freyr and Freya have
bestowed upon us a great bounty
for all the folk.
- Eoh: the yew
Symbol of Yggdrasil
the yew is strong
and holds many worlds within its branches.
It offers much support
to those who grow it.
- Peorth: the hall
In the shelter of the world tree
many great halls have been built.
So that all peoples can go
to be with their patron deity
according to the rules of their faith.
No one can be excluded from the protection of the Tree
save those who exclude themselves
by evil deeds.
- Eolhx: a water plant that bites
Even a plant can cause harm
if used without caution;
danger lurks even in the safest place.
- Sigel: the sun
Sunna is the goddess of hope.
She points out the way
and gives us the energy for life’s work.
- Tir: a star
Tyr is the way.
He is the sky father
who guides us
thru life winding paths,
never abandons us
- Beorc: the birch
Your green leaves bloom early
giving us knowledge
that Spring has come again.
- Eh: the horse
Embodiment of godly power
thought the body of the horse
people share its might.
- Man: the human being
Be happy in life.
Bring happiness to your friends
Yet be aware that death is always waiting.
- Lagu: the sea
The sea is the cauldron of chaos;
playground of Ran,
from which human beings came.
- Ing: the god of fertility
He moves across the lands;
visiting his farmer friends
giving gifts of great bounty.
Ethel: native land
One loves the land they live upon
sharing in its rights and duties.
Thus the land protects its friends
if its friends respect it.
- Daeg: the day
We shine in the light of the deities.
Tho day is followed by night;
life by death,
we know that after night comes a new day.
So death is followed by new life
in whatever way that arises.
- Ac: the oak
The daughter of the great tree
she provides us and animals
with food and shelter.
- Aesc: the ash
Like the mighty ash
may we have the power
to withstand the attacks
of our enemies
- Yr: the bow
Getting on a jet
I fly straight as an arrow
to my destination.
- Iar: a sea creature
The world serpent has us all
in its grip;
lord of eternity
the cycle of birth and death.
- Ear: the clay
Death is the end of all.
Even the most powerful
and wealthy people
are seized in the end.
Yet don’t despair,
for life goes on
and so do all which die
come back to some form of life.
- Daniel: How We Survive
- Verona: Invocation To The Dark Mother
- A albershardt: 40a84602173af71121ba20043fc2c250–naive-art-winter-solstice
- asa: The Fifty Names of Marduk
- Rita Stafford_Bones: The Story of King Frost