Thinking of Odin Tonight

Nefas Dictu

I fully intended to sit down tonight and write a bit of poetry for Odin. I wanted very much to do this thing but poetic fire comes but seldom even to one who has tasted of the Old Man’s heart, and swallowed breath from the roughness of HIs lips. I am a savage thing, and when the bite of His fire spends itself within me, there’s often little of me left for poetic musings.

He breaks open the head. All Gods do, I suspect. They wind Their way into our hearts, They seep into the fissures in our minds, They expand. They fracture us. They break us down. I have been a thousand broken shards lying in a glittering pile at His feet. I have been an anguished scream echoing in a heart too weary to loose its pain. I have been on fire, joyous, a madwoman dancing, leaping through the charnel House of a dozen savage worlds. Or maybe just nine. One loses count after awhile. I have been His Valkyrie and I have seen the glee born on the razor edge of His spear. Of these things I will not speak. This world would break in the onslaught of that pounding pleasure.

He has wrung me out, this God Whom i adore. He has wrung me out until I am a broken trembling thing awash in fear and the passing breath of His ecstasy. He has wrung me out. I have lost count of the many masks of me He has devoured. I have lost count. What I remember are the rhythms of the Tree, the rushing flow of wyrd, the incantation of His presence, the melodies of power whispered to those who paid a price in blood to hear them. I remember the gifts He has poured into me—I am empty enough to hold so much—and the careful selection of the one into whose hands I have been placed. I have been blessed indeed, but there are times, in the midst of my blessings when the echoing remembrance of His passage through my world drives me to my knees again, that I might remember the broken places He tore away.

But first, before anything, He broke open my head. He spat fire into the gaping maw of me. He allowed my heart to be shredded until for Him, I was transparent pain. He swept me up in a joy so vast it shattered worlds. He bound me together in ecstasy and hunger. He knit me up with sinews, wrought of His will and vicious power. He taught me to dance in the crackling wyrdfires of the Gap. He taught me to sing as He sang when the runes pilfered what passed for His soul.

Do you know what it’s like to be destroyed by a God? Do you know what it is like to be plunged into madness, shoved into death, cast deep into the terrible brine of the Gap and to be pulled back again? I know His secrets now, this God of death and madness. I know what He saw when high He swung in the boughs of the Tree, the Tree that knows neither mercy nor satisfaction. I know what His eye sees, having been plucked by His own bloody fingers and cast away in exchange for power. I know these things. I have seen those dark places that haunt His eons. I have seen the nightmares of a God, and i have tasted the heat of His dreams. These things have made me. They have washed my humanity away.

Because of Him, I hear the worlds screaming their secrets. There is a clamor in my brain. Even silence holds no quiet on days when the dying place exerts its claim. Because of Him, my soul gleams like a polished damascened blade and cuts as keenly too. Because of Him, I bear a map of scars marking all the many places of His passage in the terrain of me. Because of Him, I am a madwoman dancing, or shrieking, or sobbing, or laughing, spitting forth runes, spasming with His power, vomiting up oracles, and standing down His foes. Because of Him, my flesh marks the Tree. Because of Him, its fire runs in my veins. Because of Him.

I do not know how to end this thing the force of Him through my world has writ. It is monstrous, as He is monstrous. It is beautiful beyond longing. It is a key or a lock, or a tiny crevasse through which one may creep. I do not care. I would poison the world with Him if I could. I would breath Him out with every word and carry Him into every threshold. I would scream Him into being in the desiccated flesh of Midgard. I would scream Him into being through the window of me.

People ask me all the time: how do you know you are His. How do you know it’s Odin. Howdoyouknowhowdoyouknowhowdoyouknow. and i laugh and laugh and whirl about madder than any dervish. fuckfuckfuckfuck. How can you not? Knowledge of Him comes not through the lips, or careful words carried in muted tones from bloodless lips and ancient tomes. It comes with the wrenching tightness of His hand on your heart. It comes with the punching blow of His fist through the cavity of your world. It comes and when He has come nothing is ever the same again.

So laugh and dance and wail and plead…He will not heed you but go ahead and plead….and swallow the joy He brings, and roll around in the pain and throw yourself into every abyss His bloody hands carve out for you and in you. You’ll know. You and me, the Godfucked few. You’ll know. and then your world will burn. Then you, if you tend your lessons well, will burn the world in your turn. Praise Him.

(Excerpted from “He is Frenzy,” G. Krasskova, Sanngetall Press).


About ganglerisgrove

Free-range tribalist Heathen, Galina Krasskova, has been a priest of Odin and Loki since the early nineties. Originally ordained in the Fellowship of Isis in 1995, Ms. Krasskova also attended the oldest interfaith seminary in the U.S.- the New Seminary where she was ordained in 2000 and where she later worked as Dean of Second Year Students for the Academic year of 2011-2012. She has even given the opening prayer at the United Nations Conference “Women and Indigeny”. Beyond this, she took vows as a Heathen gythia in 1996 and again in 2004, She is the head of Comitatus pilae cruentae and a member of the Starry Bull tradition. She has been a member of numerous groups through the years including the American Academy of Religion. She has also served previously as a state government contracted expert on the Asatru faith, and been a regular contributor to various print and online publications geared towards modern pagans and polytheists, and for a time had her own radio program: Wyrd Ways Radio Live. Ms. Krasskova holds diplomas from The New Seminary (2000), a B.A. in Cultural Studies with a concentration in Religious Studies from Empire State College (2007), and an M.A. in Religious Studies from New York University (2009). She has completed extensive graduate coursework in Classics (2010-2016) and is pursuing a Masters in Medieval Studies at Fordham University (expected graduation 2019) with the intention of eventually doing a PhD in theology. She has also been teaching University classes in Greek and Latin. As part of her academic career Ms. Krasskova has written a number of academic articles, and also presented at various academic conferences including Harvard University, Claremont University, Fordham University, Ohio State University, Western Michigan University, Villanova University, and the City University of New York. An experienced diviner and ordeal master, her primary interest is in devotional work and the reconstruction of Northern Tradition shamanism. Her very first book, The Whisperings of Woden was the landmark first devotional text to be written in modern Heathenry. Ms. Krasskova has a variety of published books available running the gamut from introductory texts on the Northern Tradition, as well as books on shamanism, runes, prayer, and devotional practices. She is also the managing editor of “Walking the Worlds,” a peer-reviewed academic style journal focusing on contemporary polytheism and spirit work and the first journal of polytheology. While very busy with teaching and school, she does also occasionally lecture around the country on topics of interest to contemporary Heathenry and polytheisms. A passionate supporter of the arts Ms. Krasskova enjoys going to the opera, theater, and ballet. Her affection for the arts began early as she discovered dance, which she pursued professionally becoming a ballet dancer: first with a regional company in Maryland, then in New York City. After suffering career ending injuries, she would find new forms of expression in the visual arts. For a few years Ms. Krasskova co-owned an art gallery in the Hudson River Valley of New York, and over a course of numerous years she has studied a multitude of art mediums: glassblowing, watercolor, acrylic, photography and more! She is now an avid collage artist, acrylic painter and watercolorist and has even enjoyed placement in international artist-in-residencies programs in New York, New Mexico, and Poland. Her work has been exhibited globally from New York to Paris. She has taken her passion for the arts and polytheistic devotion, to create the Prayer Card Project. Since so much religious iconography has been destroyed, or defaced in the course of human history, she is actively making new religious prayers and iconography available to the various modern polytheistic communities to support those who are building their religious communities, building their devotional practices, and hungering for art that represents their religious faith. All while also supporting the artists within these burgeoning communities.

Posted on January 3, 2016, in Heathenry, Odin, Uncategorized and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink. 1 Comment.

  1. While I suspect being embraced by Apollon is a bit different, I do know well the lava fire and heat, the winds that pull the breath from your longs….and you feel at once as if you are blistering and catching fire of your skin and within your soul and have not even a breath even as the winds cast the flames higher. Anyone who would say how do you know it is x god, my response would be “how could you not know?” There has never been any question in my mind from day one who it inspired such terror of the unknown the kind of love that was offered. It is a kind of madness this dance indeed.

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