Category Archives: prayers

A Daily Meditation

Grounded and centered, having offered to the Gods my morning prayers, and having lit incense to the ancestors I sit comfortably and consider the following meditation.

I reach up with my consciousness, through endless boughs of an enormous Tree, and its leaves whisper with secrets. I am one of those secrets being whispered and sung up the gnarled knots of that ancient Tree. It exhales me up beyond the worlds.

We exist within the breath of a God. We ride that breath into being. We exhale that breath back into the mouth of the All Father at the moment of our death. We are tied to everything through His breath and it pulses around us, the steady hand of the storm. I breathe it in down into my crown. I am alive. I am Odin sitting atop Hliðkjalf and I wear the crown of sovereignty. Nothing can separate me from this God. He has knit Himself into my soul.

It is Mani to Whom I reach as I move to my third eye. He is an ancient God and all manner of folly He has seen and dismissed. He forgets nothing and yet He is luminous. I pray that my mind and my heart may be luminous too, that I may rest in the House of the Moon, and may my Sight be always true.

My throat is filled with Loki’s fire. It burns away deceit. It cleanses and renders and because of it I speak true. His is the crucible in which I am ever refined. He hones my courage.

My heart is Sigyn’s hall. She protects and tenderly nourishes all that falls within Her care. She keeps my heart steadfast and the gentle flame of devotion burning within it. I look to Her that my soul might be constant. In such things, She does not yield.

In my gut, the seat of my will, I think on Thor. Mighty Thor with His chariot and gleaming hammer, He fights off pollution. He girds the world against dissolution. He will never be overcome. With Him at my back, I know that I will always be able to align my will with the divine order. Thor will keep me clean, the Holiness He bears will keep me focused.

In my sex lies Freya’s gift, roaring, liquid heat connecting me to life and primal desire. She is Mistress of Sesrumnir and Her blessings are holy. She teaches us to find joy in living. I strive to remember this.

At my root, lie the mysteries of Frigga’s hall. She grounds me in piety and respect, reverence, and power. She is the All-Mother and Her touch makes everything sacred. She roots me deep in the purest iteration of myself and throuh Her all magic flows.

Beneath my feet breathe the bones of the dead. Thousands of generations of ancestors having passed through Hela’s hallowed halls. They walk with me and when necessary lift me up. There is no place I can go where they are not and in times of danger they are an honor guard. With each step I thank them. With each step I am grateful.

In my hands, I feel the echo worlds. In my right hand I hold fire, in my left hand I hold ice. There is the holy chasm in between. All of creation is within me and I see the moment the Gods willed the worlds into being. I stand with Them then, again and again. I am willed into being too with each and every prayer. I am sustained and my prayers fall like nourishing water from the well of memory upon the Tree. It is sustained too. It is enough.

I reach above me with my right hand drawing power up from the dead and from the living earth and down from the most secret powers of the heavens and it is right and good and I touch my brow and chant:

Til ykkar, Oðinn og Regin,

I touch my belly and intone: rikið.

I touch my right shoulder and intone: krafturinn
My left shoulder: dyrðin

I cross my arms over my heart: nú og að eilífu

I bow my head in reverence: Amen.

And it is done.

Krasskova World Tree copy.jpg

(my photo: “the World Tree”. Do not use without permission).

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Our Household’s Threshold Prayer

My friend Edward posted a link to a Hellenic threshold prayer on twitter so I figured I’d share the one I do most days before leaving the home.

Thresholds are problematic areas. They’re almost open space, transitional space and that means that they are areas prone most especially to miasma. More than that, as you cross your threshold, you’re leaving the protected space of your house and moving out into a world. All of this makes them remarkably difficult to spiritually shield. My shrine to Hermes is right inside the door, almost touching the threshold (divination showed that He was insistent it go there) and right next to that is the shrine to Loki and Sigyn (again, div showed They wanted it there). The last thing I do before leaving my home is make offerings at each of these shrines. Hermes’ shrine includes a small section to Cardea, Janus, Forculus, and Limentius.

I pray to You, Hermes, Giver of Good things,
ever the Traveler, always our Guide,
please protect me as I leave this house.
Guard my comings and my goings,
and keep me safe.
May I reach my destinations safely
without incident or accident
and return safely home as well.
Please watch over me, Hermes,
I pray.

I ask Cardea, Gracious Goddess,
to guard me as I cross this threshold.
Please keep away misfortune and malice,
keep away sickness and death,
and with your brothers Forculus and LImentius,
bring me home safely again.

Hail to You, Hermes, best Beloved,
and hail to You, Cardea.

Hermes dec 31 2017

I say this after making a small offering (usually a glass of water or incense) and right before I head out for my day. I’d love to see what types of threshold prayers you, my Readers use.
Happy Saturday, folks.

Morning Contemplation

I had to wake an hour earlier today than is my norm. I’m rushing around, getting ready to head into what I like to term my “hell day” at school (a day where I am in classes or meetings from 11am until 7:45pm without a break) and thanking the Gods for the fact that coffee exists but I wanted to take a moment to write this. From the time I’ve been awake I’ve been thinking about the Gods and how to carry a sense of Them with me throughout the day.

I want to feel Mani around me today, to feel connected to Him from dawn to dusk. I want to feel Him at my throat, and surrounding me, His luminescent presence flowing around and through me. I opened my day with mumbled prayers (not a morning person!) to Him and I have continued to hold Him foremost in my mind as I get ready. The adornments and scent that I choose to wear today are both things that remind me of Him, the first a brooch from His shrine, a ritual piece (though no one else would know it in my working world) imbued with His presence. I made offerings, pinned the brooch to my throat and rushed out.

As we drove to work (I’m now sitting in my department waiting for my first meeting), part of my mind was always on Mani. In my heart where He has crept, He is a palpable force. In the quiet sanctuary of my mind, which He has shaped, He is a far-reaching power. In the world without, He is there, soft misty trace of His passing in the sky above, softening the razor sharp bite of its noise because how can I see or hear any of that when He is there?

I pray for His blessing today and His protection. It is already looking like a day full of physical pain and aggravation. Still, I will try to let Him guide me, to reach out again and again throughout my day readjusting myself to the loveliness that I sense when He is near. I will touch His grace and elegance wondering at it and that moment of contemplative contact will change me, center me, realign me in some small way with His presence.

When I have a moment between meetings and classes, I will go out and pour out a simple offering to Him, probably water but maybe tea since I keep a nice black tea in my box here. I will drink Him in within the secret fastness of my heart as much as He will permit, and pray that whatever battles I may face throughout the day, the ecstatic utterance of His name and the glorious Presence it evokes will ever surround my soul with its illumination.

Hail Mani of the thirteen turnings,
Mani Who governs the cycles of the world,
Mani of the honey-golden countenance,
ManI elder to creation,
Many, beautiful and ancient,
Please hear my prayer.

I love you, oh Sweetest of Gods,
remote though You may ever be,
and for all You have given us,
I am grateful.

IMG_0232

Seven-Day Prayer Cycle for Pudicitia

Day 1: She Who Preserves

You rise by moonlight, bright and shining,
cover Your head and seek the grace of offerings.
The resources of the home are at Your disposal.
You garb Yourself in respect, modesty, and self-control.
You are mindful of Your position and the obligations therein.
The incense You offer carries Your prayers to the Heavens,
for even the Holy Ones pray for a continuation of goodly order.
The wise wife follows Your example,
inspires the women in her home in piety,
honors her man with her integrity.
She is an adornment to Her home,
wealth beyond measure.
Goodness and bounty flow from her hands.
She restores and holds true to her commitments.
Bless us oh Goddess of chastity,
with the grace of mindfulness,
that we may honor You and the Holy Ones
in all we do.

 

Day 2 : She Who Guards

You are our first line of defense
in guarding our homes, our kin,
the integrity of our very souls.
It begins with the lessons You teach:
mindfulness, modesty,
the careful cultivation of virtue.
Nothing escapes You, oh Vigilant One.
Nothing is too small to warrant Your care.
With Your help, we will drive out pollution.
With Your help, with will remain clean
in our work, our hearts, and most of all
in the hallowed places of our spirits.
With Your help, nothing will shake us
from our reverence.
It begins with You, Pudicitia,
mindfulness in our words, our deeds,
our dress, our conduct, and everything
that we allow into our world, and most of all,
most importantly of all, with everything
we allow to shape our inner world.
With Your guidance, Oh Goddess,
may we make good choices.
Hail to You, Pudicitia,
called Patricia, because Your gifts
ennoble, called Plebeia, because your gifts
are for all.
Hail to You, oh Goddess. Always.

 

Day 4: She Who Inspires All

The ancient Romans knew how important Your blessings were.
They, a people whose history is strewn with inter-class strife
venerated You across those boundaries.
Your blessings were for everyone.
You sustained patrician and plebeian both
and so integral to the holy peace of the Gods were Your gifts,
that women alone tended Your shrines,
because women alone in that time and place
ordered the home passing on Your lessons to their children,
and ensuring each successive generation knew the rightness
of giving You honor.
Our world is very different today,
yet not so different in our need for the knowledge You bear.
Perhaps we need it even more than our ancestors did,
for our world, for all its marvels, is a far uglier and impious place.
Your blessings are there for us too,
if we have the sense our ancestors had,
to seek You out in veneration.
To learn Your lessons well,
and to work hard at maintaining them.
Your most important lesson,
(and one we generally do not like,
though we’d all do best to heed it well),
is that of the rightness of feeling shame
when we have wronged the Gods,
behaved un-virtuously, carelessly,
or when we have been needlessly cruel.
Yours are the gifts that tell us loudly and unswervingly,
when we have crossed a boundary more terrible
with every foolish step.
The pious awareness You grant warns us to reconsider,
and helps ensure that we maintain those sacred habits,
the precious relationships with our Gods and ancestors,
in good and working order.
It is by these things that we too are best sustained.
You give us the strength and the grace
to aid in our own cultivation,
to govern ourselves,
and to develop, if we persevere,
proper and nourishing instincts
toward the holy.
May we persevere,
and Goddess, Who looks wisely
upon Her people, of all classes,
all colors, all ages, all genders,
all everything,
and strives to teach us rightly,
grant that these instincts to piety,
that we should be working so hard to cultivate,
never fall into the mistake of scrupulosity,
anxiety, and fear.
May the habits of goodness You help us to cultivate,
ever be rooted in joy and a deep and abiding sense
of love for the Gods, and the rightness of devotion to Them.
Hail to You, Pudicitia,
may we ever heed Your lessons well.

 

 

Day 5: She Who Sustains the Heart
(by G. Krasskova & T. Vitta)

Great and Gracious Goddess,
this is my prayer to You today.
I come to You with humble heart
and in devotion.
Teach me to honor myself,
so that I may go into relationships clean.
teach me to love, without fear of commitment
those to whom I have chosen to commit,
to cultivate steadfastness, respect, fidelity,
to honor my boundaries
and the boundaries of those around me.
Teach me to be vulnerable
both in strength and submission
that I may never misuse my heart and my needs
in those relationships, I cherish.
Teach me to tease through the complications
in ways that bring value to my relationships, my home,
my commitments, that love may grow and be shared
in ways that honor You and all parties involved.
For when we truly honor ourselves and respect who we are,
and what those things mean to us,
that is when we can more fully love those around us,
respect them, appreciate them
and thus, better fulfill
our commitments to the Powers. 

Help us, oh Goddess, for when we do not know ourselves
we run the risk of being subsumed in the needs of others,
and in so doing forgetting ourselves, our sacred work,
our obligations to Gods, family, community, and our own souls.
Bless us, Oh Goddess, with the wisdom of growth,
even when we struggle.

Hail to You, Goddess of boundaries,
for honoring boundaries is the first step
to cultivating a deep and abiding love.
Hail, Pudicitia, called Patricia, called Plebeia.
Honored by high and low alike.
Hail.

 

Day 6: She Who Teaches

Your lessons are about self-preservation
and cultivation, Oh Goddess.
You are firm and rightly insistent
that we must hold high standards for ourselves,
because in the end, mentored or not
by human beings, we each alone
are responsible for our devotional lives,
our relationships with the Gods, the ancestors,
the spirits of the land in which we live,
and our communities too.
We cannot foist the blame off
on others, for what we ourselves
have failed to accomplish.
We cannot lay at the feet of strangers,
responsibility for our own poor choices,
be those choices of action or of inaction,
no matter how much we might like to do so,
or how much our culture says it’s ok.
You are there to remind us, Patricia,**
that we are each expected to cultivate,
to the best of our ability, piety,
devotion, and good sense,
toward the Gods and ancestors,
the spirits of the land,
and toward those people in our world
whose lives touch ours.
There are no excuses for what we fail to do.
Our life’s challenges are there to inspire us,
and like an athlete honing his body with weights,
to hone our character too.
Like a good and proper Roman matron,
we have been given a house to tend,
and it is up to us to do that well.
But You are there when we ask for help.
and though You accept no excuse,
You will help us up when we stumble,
and give us guidance when we ask,
and ever support us in our devotions,
that we may become the best person
it is within our living capacity to become
on the inside where it truly counts,
and in our lives writ large as well.
You do not care about our pretty words.
It is our conduct day to day, and especially
in sacred matters
– and everything is a sacred matter to You—
that You would have us govern ourselves.
Hail to You, Patricia.
May You always guide us in this endeavor.

 

Day 7: She Who Safeguards

You have been honored by empresses,
by the elite matrons of Rome,
and by humble wives of plebeians too.
Your shrines have been beautiful temples,
but also, a modest room within a woman’s home.
Yours is the royal road of wisdom
that every foot is invited to walk,
and You hear all prayers offered to You.
Women have ever been Your special retainers,
You have charged them with a heavy task:
that of being good examples to all
within and without the haven of their homes.
You want Your women to be seen,
that their carefully cultivated examples
of Your most sacred cardinal virtues:
modesty, piety, and respect,
might be seen as well.
Thus, do You firstly teach,
through those who espouse Your veneration.

Your shrines were always tended by married women only.
Girls unmarried were too young and too inexperienced
to be trusted with such a task.
It would have been a cruelty
to expect maidens to uphold the values You teach,
without guidance, without support.
You are not cruel and those values enhance the world
and our devotion to the Holy Powers within it.
They are not meant for harm.
To a child on the brink of womanhood,
wrestling with the challenges adulthood soon brings,
it is better to have exempla of her elders to guide her,
than to shoulder such a heavy, heavy burden alone.
No, Your ways are meant to be cultivated little by little,
taught from mother to daughter, and yes, mother to son,
so that when the world beckons,
Your wisdom will already be knit into our souls.
You are She Who inspired Lucretia,
and fierce Verginia, who refused to be denied
veneration of You, and rightly so.
May we have the stubborn courage to refuse as well,
when those in our world foolishly undermine
the values You teach.
Hail to You, Plebeia,
May I never close my heart
to Your tutelage.

 

Pudicitia

 

 

** “Patricia” from the word ‘patrician’ was one of Her epithets, as was “Plebeia” from ‘plebeian.’

(prayers by G. Krasskova; image by W. McMillan).

Seven-Day Prayer Cycle to Pietas

Day 1: for Pietas, Who Brings Blessings

In the morning, before the sun rises,
while the moon still illuminates the sky,
gently inspiring with His beauty,
You rise to tend Your day.
Before the frenetic rush and riot
of family, work, and all Your daily tasks
vie for Your attention,
You seek out the comfort of the moon,
moments of serenity in which to order Your tasks;
and in that ordering, in the sanctuary of heart and mind,
Your finger each sacred obligation, each connection,
each covenanted commitment like the precious jewels they are,
and You remember, calling to mind their value, their importance,
and all the reasons You hold them true.
May we too do the same, oh Goddess,
may we restore and renew in the fastness of our beings,
all the sacred covenants to which we are bound.
May we remind ourselves again and again,
why we do this, and the love we bear
for our Gods and dead.
Hail to You, Pietas, may Your name
ever be spoken in reverence.

 

Day 2 – for Piety, Who is Mighty

She is a Goddess,
and Her name means grace,
righteous balance, and devotion.
She knows all the ways
In which to right our world.
She knows and proffers them to us
With holy hands.
She is harmony,
The resounding melody
Of all the spheres
Dancing in perfect rhythm.
She is ratio and perfection.
She is the royal road
Open to us all.
She has no need of armor or spear,
Sword or terrifying mace,
Though Her blessings fall
On every right-minded man
And woman too
Going forth to do their duty.
She has only to reveal Herself,
To enter a place, a heart, a home
And it is transformed
Into a victorious field
Where enemies of the Gods
May no longer dwell.
Hail to You, Pietas,
Sweet Perfection,
A Beauty found only in You,
By which we are raised up.

 

Day 3- for Pietas, Who Nurtures Tradition

Oh Goddess, Keeper of the most ancient and necessary of virtues,
Cultivator of the Holy, Guardian of sacred traditions,
Kindle within us the flame of fervent devotion.
Protect us from acedia, from pollution, from lack of care.
Inspire within us a desire, always, to do what is right and proper:
For our Gods, our ancestors, the land from which we draw sustenance,
And our traditions, the delicate and holy trust which have been given into our care.
Show us, Mighty Mother, how to tend these duties fully and well.
Let nothing deter us. Let nothing interfere, least of all our own fears
That our work will not be perfect.
Inspire in us a motivation as fierce and unstoppable
as the very turning of the seasons,
that we may cultivate within ourselves,
all the virtues necessary,
to live a life of devotion
pleasing to our Gods.
Teach us, Oh Goddess both gentle and firm,
To develop in ourselves the virtues of loyalty, fidelity,
Commitment and care, caritas toward the Gods
And each other.
Let us nourish what must be nourished.
With hearts and hands ever lifted in prayer.
Hail to You, Pietas, now and to our final breath.

 

Day 4 – for Pietas, Who teaches Devotion

Without piety, Oh Goddess, we are nothing.
Upon what other foundation ought our lives be wrought?
That gift of grace and understanding that You bear is precious;
and from the moment we were formed in our mothers’ wombs,
essential. Upon what else ought the work of our souls be focused?
It is a joyful, sustaining duty that You teach us,
to tend well our world of family and home,
city, town, and state, to render well the service
that rightfully ought to be given to these things.
But most of all, best and highest of all,
You teach us what it means
to be in right relationship with our Gods and ancestors,
with the land that nourishes us and all the spirits therein.
You help us to live in a way that nurtures these relationships,
that gives our own lives purpose and ensures that we contribute
to that which the Gods have built in ways that allow us
to rightfully pass it on into the hands
of those who come after us,
leaving all these things in better shape than we received it.
Hail to You, Pietas, may we always be mindful
of the sacred duty* for which we were born.

 

Day 5 – For Pietas, Whose Grace is Love

Piety is not a harsh, unyielding thing.
It is not heavy and vicious,
a burden to bear instead of a blessing.
Those who learn at Your feet,
who heed well the lessons You gently teach
learn the truth: that it is the sweetest joy
a mortal may taste in this world.
Piety is the honey-gold link of love
that ties us ever to the Gods and They to us.
It is the rich ambrosia that allows us to share
in the eternal feast of the Immortals.
It is wealth beyond measure,
that opens our lives to every abundance.
It all begins with Your lessons, Gracious Goddess,
and our own willingness to learn those things
that are Yours first and foremost to teach.
May we always be willing to do so.
may our hearts be filled with Your wisdom.
May our mouths feast on the sweetness of Your words.
May our souls rejoice in the beauty of this knowledge;
and may You bless us in this endeavor, every and always,
especially when we struggle the most.
Hail and honor to You, Holy and Sacred,
Hail, Pietas.

 

Day 6 – for Pietas, Who Keeps us Clean

It is Your grace that nourishes us
in times of deepest distress;
Your power that lifts us up
out of the muck and poison of modernity;
You, unyielding and unhesitating,
Who shows us a healthier, better way
in which to weave the tapestry of our lives.
It is You, Sweet and Gracious Goddess,
quietly formidable, ever-holy Keeper of our Traditions,
Who sweeps away the dreck, cleansing and purifying,
who lights before the eyes of our souls,
a torch that will lead us to the brightly hallowed
hearth of our Gods,
should we but cultivate the fortitude to follow it.
Help us to do just that, Pietas,
to cultivate within ourselves that precious fortitude.
Help us that we may be valiant in following You
and those things, intrinsic and integral
to the good of our souls, that You teach.
You, Oh Goddess, the sacred Presence
in which nothing wicked, nothing polluted, nothing evil
may find purchase, help us to but stay the course,
knowing that however dark and lonely the way may seem,
under Your tutelage we are never alone,
but stand resilient and whole with generations of forebears
who knew the rightness of honoring You,
supportively at our backs.
With your grace, we too may one day stand
with that august and hallowed company,
urging on in support, the next generation
of devout and pious polytheists
to but stay the course.
Hail to You, Pietas,
ever and always our guiding star.

 

Day 7 – to Pietas, Who Brings Joy

You, in Your quiet way nourish the Gods,
as Helios in His bright-streaming chariot
nourishes the earth with His journey.
You tend and turn the hearts of mortals,
to right contemplation of the Gods.
You inspire the hearts of philosophers,
to meditate upon the virtues.
You encourage artists in their work
of bringing beauty into being
lifting up aching souls to the heavens.
You whisper in the ear of the home-maker,
and call to mind the wisdom of the dead.
Your blessings fall on soldiers,
who protect their people,
on the teachers, who nurture
the next generation,
on bankers, secretaries, lawyers, farmers,
mechanics, on everyone,
on all those who work hard
to sustain themselves and their world.
Into each and every ear You whisper encouragement,
devotion is for everyone.
You hold out glimmers of promise,
that the Gods are here,
that it is right to honor Them,
that it is a joyful thing to make one’s life
a celebration of Their blessings.
You teach us that everything is sacred.
Everything is a secret doorway to the Holy,
and everything a means by which the Holy
can find its way back into our world
over and over again. You place into our hands
the key to that door bidding us to open it wide.
If we are brave, if we allow ourselves
to hear Your voice,
if we but run laughing in the direction
You encourage, then we too
in our own small way,
might blaze like Helios across the sky,
(hail Him, joyously!)
and light the hearth of our world,
with hallowing fire,
until any and all pollution
is burned away.
You are the ultimate Mystery,
the ever Glorious One,
and to You always and ever I bow.
Hail, Pietas.

 

Pietas

*the meaning of the Latin word ‘pietas’ that is also the name of this Goddess, is duty: to Gods, ancestors, land, city, family, state, etc. it was all bound up in the meaning of piety for ancient Romans, and from this came the Pax Deorum.

(prayer cycle by G. Krasskova; image by W. Mcmillan)

Seven-Day Prayer Cycle to Odin

Day 1: for Odin, Who Ever Seeks Wisdom.

To You, gaunt wanderer,
Who sought the counsel of the luminous God,
alone, in a stark landscape
of ice and dying trees,
whispering
secrets of unseen things,
this prayer is given.

He does His war dance,
scimitars flashing, rivaling fire as He moves,
alabaster white and shining,
eyes showing the sowing of worlds,
keen-footed steps their destruction.

The Warlord learned,
and bowed His head down
to the glory and the beauty.

May we too be open to such wonder,
now and always.
Hail to You, Gangleri.

 

Day 2: to He Who is Glad of War

War is Your delight, Oh Tester of Men.
It is Your sacrament, a sacred sieve,
where fire and ice meet anew.
Our ancestors knew Your voice,
howling, terrible, a thousand winds,
raging and fighting in Your song,
runes spat forth, ferocious,
wiping generations clean.
Raw and raging like a bear,
with the viscera of prey
between its jaws, You come.
Visage rust-red, bright and bloody,
adorned with scars of victory,
You come.
Ash spear hungry, gleaming razor bright
in the oozing mire of war, Oh You come.
Shield-shaker, Attacking rider,
thighs grip fast the gallows horse
as You ride, and there is no prey
You cannot find. No place
for Your enemies to run.
Bring the world to heel,
with the maelstrom of Your battle cry,
and may Your Valkyries feast.
May we too feast fast in the knowledge,
that there is nothing greater than You,
and nothing we need ever fear,
with You at our backs.
Hail, Haptabeiðir, Roaring God,
Hail the Father of Hosts.

 

Day 3 – for Odin, He Who is Frenzy

The raven has hooked his claws in my heart
tethering me to the interstitial frenzy
pouring out from gallows to God.
Let us praise the furious One,
Who rendered Himself upon the Tree
gore-blessed, ever-hungry,
victorious over Himself first of all.
Let us praise Gangleri,
Who wanders through
all the darkest corners
of our world,
spitting mouthfuls of glacial fire
into the heads and hearts
of fervent women.
Let us praise the One Whose spear
keen and sharp, ever finds its mark,
Gerölnir, blistering across the field of battle
ever ecstatic in His fury.
Let us praise the Burden of Yggdrasil,
Corpse-God and eunuch, ever renewed
through the agony of sacrifice.
He mounted the Tree and with a war cry
like shrieking thunder swallowed the
glory of the Gap – gasping, gripping,
spewing runes, this sovereign Power.
Let us praise the Roaring Thruster,
charmed and charming,
Who scatters His seed inciting longing,
carnal and cunning, clever and cruel,
exquisitely adroit across all the worlds, Glory burning.
Let us praise this God in Whom
all opposites reside, compelling adoration,
devouring opposition, like grist in His teeth,
ground up and grinding, bale-eyed Beguiler,
Who gnawed on fire, this Architect of Being.
throbbing, pounding, aching, wanting,
implacable Force, unsparing Fever,
unappeasable haunting Hunger,
to Whom Being itself surrendered
torn apart and structured anew.
Oh Glad of War, Galdr-Father,
Glad of Battle, God of Gain,
Blinder of Foes, sharp Wand-Wielder,
Gaunt God Splendor, World-willing Wonder,
Incanting Hjarrandi, Herjan, Goðjaðarr,
Lord of Hosts and Valhalla’s hall,
Blazing Ravager, Renewing Ruler,
howling winds herald Your terror.
Odin we call You, vehement and lethal,
vigorous valor, we hail You always.
We ask that You fill us with Your thirst for knowing,
so that our lives will ever be full of color.
Hail to You, oh Frenzied Hunger.
Hail to You, Odin.

 

Day 4 – For Odin, He Who Comes

You come like thunder roaring,
shattering, crashing, and pounding into the heart.
Howling God, breathing fury, Your frenzied shrieking
giving life to the runes, sacred synaptic power,
the Tree runs red with Your blood.
It was freely given. Your blessings strike,
like the hammer of Your Son,
like lightening’s fire, inescapable,
ecstatic terror, dancing, burning,
igniting worlds in the heads of those You favor.
A sharp-eyed eagle soaring over Hlidskjalf,
there is no secret You cannot know,
no world You will not plunder.
You and Your mighty Son,
hold up the scaffolding of the Worlds,
girding the elegance of its geometry
against entropy and destruction:
He with His might, You with Your hunger,
Your seeking, Your desire, as once You taunted Him
sardonically flyting in ferryman’s guise.
There is no world capable of containing Your frenzy,
Oh God grey of beard and ravenous of heart.

May Your favor fall upon us always,
until we are as hungry for the holy
as You are for power.

 

Day 5 – For Odin, He Who Seduces

You come, lean and pale, fingers just stroking the edges of our consciousness.
Sometimes, we don’t even realize it’s You when we shiver,
only that the hunt has begun.
You, Lord of the spear, are master of the battlefield.
You terrify, terrorize, obliterate Your foes with grit and glee.
Your battle-bright howl of victory brings even those who love You
to their knees. That works for You. You have use for them there.
Wand-Bearer the poets call You; they do not know. It has nothing to do with magic.
You need no charms for Your seductions, it’s a different type of wand You bear,
and it is mighty.
Your scent, that hunter’s gaze, and most of all the hunger echoing from the core of You,
seeping out in every move, every whispering breath, boiling beneath that glacial sear
of Your presence…Oh, it makes You the most wished for of Gods,
even when we know better.
Hnikarr, they call You, Thruster, and Njótr, He Who uses and enjoys.
Your conquests enjoy it too, even when it leaves them rendered.
You are the most welcome God of all, loved by men and women alike,
and like the best of prey when we flee, it is with the hope that You will follow,
that You will hunt us down, like a hawk snatching up
the small creatures that flee its talons. It is our purpose to be lost in You,
and found.
In You, however we are not small. In You we taste of glory.
In You, exploding through our burning synapses,
we taste the tang of creation,
beneath the iron-sweet bite of Your spear,
we become fire in Your mouth,
spat out, renewed and renewing.
Hail to You, Uðr, Olgr, Göndlir, Þuðr.
May we always be up to the chase.

 

Day 6 – for Odin, Lord of Hosts

You tore out Your Own eye,
greedy fingers fast as the bite of a serpent,
shoved your own fist into Your brain,
plucked that ocular wonder free and tossed it down.
There is nothing You will not do.

When the worlds were made,
old Ymir’s corpse repurposed,
You and Your Brothers didn’t sit back
awash in self-congratulation,
cooing to each other
about how good it was. No.
The three of You stood around and sighed.
‘It’s all so meta,’ Loður drawled.
“Yeah, meta boring” You responded,
Hoenir rolling His eyes.
Then the three of You took up some driftwood
gnarled, ugly, a little bent, but it had some promise—
pretty much like we’ve remained—
and created humans.
That spiced shit up, didn’t it?

People think creation ended
when the worlds were made.
They have no idea.
Infrastructure doesn’t sustain itself.
What do they think that incident,
the one with Rind was all about?
You were battling fire and ice again,
like an artist with rather violent media.
The worlds need ever renewing,
by Gods and humans alike after all.
No time to rest. Renewal purifies
drives back Your enemies for a time,
and Yggdrasil grows.
That end justifies any means.

Oh, frenzied God,
You are ever laser-focused,
beautifully vicious,
a formidable Power.

Let no one think Your wanderings
are without purpose.
You are the Architect of Creation
and if it takes a little more blood,
gore, and guts to make that creation last,
that’s just fine with You.
It will continue as it was begun,
and You will too.

You fill the head of Your devotees
with ice and fire, flickering in a desolate wasteland,
with glimpses of creation, and that which is to come.
May we ever be smart enough,
devout enough, and sensible enough,
to aid Your work or get out of Your way.
May we never oppose You,
but nourish Your fury
with venerative fire of our own.

Hail to You, Odin,
Runatyr, Gangleri.
Hail to You, Atriði, Eternal Enemy of the Wolf.
You are the whirlwind that does its own reaping,
the whispering terror on every field of battle,
walking will and brutal splendor.
We are Your grateful retainers.
Hail to You, Odin.

 

Day 7 – for Odin, a Song of Nine

We praise You, All Father, Architect of the Worlds, Who breathed us into being.
We praise You, Runatyr, World-maker, Whose keen far-seeing intellect wove the fabric of reality.
We praise You, Bolverk, for by cunning negotiation You brought us poetry and ecstasy.
We praise You, Oski, ever generous Giver of gifts, for You pour Your favors out upon Your people.
We praise You, Sigfather, for teaching us to ever strive for victory, for inspiring us with Your might.
We praise You, Woden, for sharing healing charms and the wisdom of driving out corruption.
We praise You, Galdrfather, for giving us the gift of enchantment, the continual re-sacralization of our world.
We praise You, Yggr, for Your sacrifice upon the Tree. by which You instructed us in wisdom.
We praise You, Odin, that You have elevated us by means of your nobility, driven us forward by means of Your attentions.
Oh Burning Brand.
Oh Self-Chosen Sacrifice.
Oh Sweet Wine of Ecstasy.
Oh Bottomless Well of Wisdom.
Oh unscalable, soaring Height.
Oh Fierceness without Measure.
Oh Might without Opposition.
Oh Treasure-House of every Honor.
Oh Hunger without Restraint.
Ever and always do Your people praise You.
May we always praise You too.

 

36679822_10217353951430844_9101066095707553792_n.jpg

(prayers by G. Krasskova; image a shrine statue carved for me by S. Ravenswing)

Complete Seven-Day Prayer Cycle for Loki

Day I – for Loki, Creator of Worlds

You rose up from the primordial grime
hand in hand with Your brothers,
savage yet determined fury
under the light of a cold-bladed moon.
You destroyed Your ancestor,
ruined Him, the indolent breeder,
clotted up his gaping maw
silenced his screeching snores and groans
that ever rattled the wyrm-like field.
You swept it all away and from His bones
built anew, a web of worlds-
bleak in their youth, rich in their promise,
rising and shining in the boughs of the Tree.
You made of his screams a symphony,
bone beautiful and clean.
There was no remorse in You
but elation, satisfaction.
Let there be no remorse in me either,
for the things that I must do
in devotion.
Hail to You, Loður,
Whose blood stained fingers
painted our flesh a lively hue.

 

 

Day 2 for Loki, Friend of Odin

He Who battles alongside His friends
maintains the strength of Asgard,
using His gifts to challenge the giants,
using His body to subvert Svaðilfari’s Master.
He pours treasure down upon His allies,
He rains wrath down upon His foes.
His victory lies in the longest game,
and of all the Gods, not even He
knows its end.
Bright as fire, slippery as a fish,
drenched in the well-bright, whispered warnings,
this God comes. He challenges everything,
laughing around a bonfire encompassing even
His own destruction.
He knows that with chaos
comes opportunity,
to turn the final battle on its end,
to grab victory out of the maws of the wolf,
a celebration of blood and steel,
and those who think He lacks courage
know not what His courage has cost.
Hail to You, Loki, friend of Thor,
Who works Your wiles in Odin’s shadow
so the Old Man may shine all the more.
Hail to the fighter Whose wit is a wound
deadlier than poison in the heart of Their enemies.
May we always honor You, oh God Who finds the loops
in every loophole. Show us too how to be slippery
and hard to catch in the maze of things that would bind us
away from our Gods, stifle our devotion, and burden our hearts
with pollution.

 

 

Day 3 – for Loki, Clever and Cunning

You are the fire that burns in Odin’s shadow
The stitch holding the worlds together,
The whisper ever unquiet igniting dissatisfaction.
You keep us from succumbing.
You make memory blaze and sear
Driving us inevitably back to the Gods
Our ancestors forgot.
Bright flickering fire
To Grimnir’s icey dark
The two of You brought the worlds to life
(Hoenir granting order and sense)
and You will bring it back to life again:
restoring what must be restored
even if it must be done in blood and fire.
May we work with the Gods always,
Grant us that, oh clever Roarer*,
And never, ever against,
No matter how rough and challenging
The road may grow.
Hail to You, Loki,
On this, Woden’s Day.

 

Day 4 – for Loki, Friend of Thor

You are the best and most loyal of friends, Oh Loki,
You Who tangle and untangle the toughest of fates.
You walk through every terror, every challenge
At the side of Your allies and friends,
And the trouble You cause ever works in Your favor.
You, Lopt, bend every error to Your will
And there is no lock You cannot open.
Like a green eyed glittering spider
Sitting in a massive web,
There is no secret of Gods or men
You do not know, and You keep them
Secreted away keen weapons easily summoned
To Your witty lips and hands.
You pour treasure into the hands of your companions,
From You, Thor gained His mighty hammer,
Odin His spear, Frey His magical ship,
And many other glorious gifts.
You ever gift us as well, most often
When we are reluctant, recalcitrant
And resistant to Your mercy.
Never cease, Fiery Hearted Sky-treader
To open us up to all the potentialities
The Gods can provide,
especially when we beg you not to.

Hail to You, Loki, the best of friends
In our time of need, always and ever after.

 

 

Day 5 – For Loki, Best of Husbands, Beloved of Sigyn

You, Loki, are the most tender-hearted of Gods.
No one knows this save Sigyn. You keep it well hidden,
preferring to present to the world a mask of careless abandon,
and to Your family a façade of unbreakable strength.
Sigyn is onto You though, this wife Whom You love beyond all others.
She knows You well and She has seen Your eyes, bright and shining
as You cradled Your sons in Your arms. She has seen You,
when all masks fall away as You play and wrestle with Your children,
those You have with Her, and those shapeshifting wildlings: serpent, wolf,
and Lady of grace and death. You are laughing, loving clay in Their little,
sometimes grubby, hands.

She has seen, Oh Wildfire God, the joy with which You scoop Them up,
sweet and clumsy little toddlers with their delightful cries of “Papa.”
She has seen, She knows what a balm They are to Your bruised heart.
She knows how They are Your reason for being,
and how deep Your love for Them and for Her as well flows.
They are Your bedrock, and that for which You would burn a thousand worlds,
or build a thousand up again.

You love Your family, Loki, and They are the greatest sanctuary You will ever know.
The home You have built with Them is a haven flourishing and happy.
There is such joy there and when Your friend Thor comes to visit,
Narvi and Vali raise holy hell racing and playing with Magni, Modi, and Thrudr,
and it leaks out into the worlds bringing laughter and lightness of heart
to all mortals– and Gods too –lucky enough to taste its flavor.

Sigyn knows these things and is satisfied.
A good father and good husband are gifts beyond price.
The worlds are sustained by Their hope and hard work.

Hail to You, Beloved of Sigyn,
Tender flame of Her hearth
Teach us to nourish the loves given into our care
And take joy in the process.

Hail to You, Loki.

 

Day 6 – Loki, Purifier and Liberator

People don’t understand what You do.
They don’t want to understand
because You are the least likely God
to allow Himself to be contained neatly
in the pages of a book, to be pushed aside,
explained away, or made palatable
to minds unwilling for all the grace and blessings the Gods can bring.
You are never small and You push Your people
beyond the confines, safe spaces and choking boundaries
that we all would sometimes lock around ourselves,
to keep anxieties at bay. You counsel us to fuck our anxieties,
to do what needs to be done anyway, knowing the price,
spitting upon it, and paying it willingly.
You roar out across the worlds, tease Your way into our minds
set our hearts on holy fire, and beckon us to come to You
and oh, we do and the world is never the same again.
You Loki are our liberator.
You tear our limitations apart.
You, Skytreader, raise us up,
shaking us loose of the pollution that clouds our senses,
You, unstoppable heat and scorching fire,
demand discernment and goad us into courage,
as You are made of courage,
and glee at being the whirlwind
across the worlds, through the worlds, between the worlds,
and in every nook and hidden cranny challenging entropy.
You run riotous rough-shod over them – and us as well-
Cleaning out, tearing up, and dancing, sometimes maniacally,
on the scraps and confetti of our assumptions,
until we arrive, sweating and laughing, sobbing, and quaking,
filled with reverence, opened by awe, at the feet of the Gods
Whom we love. Then, and only then,
when we have been properly prepared,
can we fully take up the task of supporting Them
in the ongoing work of creation.
May we do this fiercely, formidably, and without hesitation.
May we throw ourselves into all that You offer,
So that we may offer all to our Gods in turn,
through the laughing, seething grace,
We have been gifted by You.
Hail to You, Loki, in all ways,
by every name You may ever be called.
We ask Your blessings and thank you –
in advance because we’ll be too busy
trying to keep our footing during—
for the grace of Your attentions.
Hail to You, Balance-Breaker,
Hail to You, most-challenging God.

 

Day 7 – for Loki,

In the blistering furnace of our hearts,
may You be hailed.
In the fierce rantings of mind and memory,
may You be hailed.
In the tumultuous storm of our senses,
may we gasp, and chant, and sing Your praises.
May our lips burn with whispered adorations to You.
May our bodies shake in the onslaught of Your presence.
Where You are honored, there be in all of Your glory.
Where You are reviled, there also be,
and work Your cunning wiles.
May You ever be the unquiet thought,
the unruly impulse, the unwary stirring
of holy cravings, the longing for internal revolution,
the descant-mad, dervish-driven
prophetic-spewing roar that drives us
ever and always, unceasingly, unmercifully
into the arms of our own liberation.
Hail Loki, Liberator,
cunning, wild, and wise.
May You ever be hailed.

Loki_final

 

(Loki prayer cycle by G. Krasskova)

Note:
*One of his lesser known by-names is Hveðrungr (Roarer).

(image by W. McMillan, available as a prayer card here.)

Day 6 – for Odin

You tore out Your Own eye,
greedy fingers fast as the bite of a serpent,
shoved your own fist into Your brain,
plucked that ocular wonder free and tossed it down.
There is nothing You will not do.

When the worlds were made,
old Ymir’s corpse repurposed,
You and Your Brothers didn’t sit back
awash in self-congratulation,
cooing to each other
about how good it was. No.
The three of You stood around and sighed.
‘It’s all so meta,’ Loður drawled.
“Yeah, meta boring” You responded,
Hoenir rolling His eyes.
Then the three of You took up some driftwood
gnarled, ugly, a little bent, but it had some promise—
pretty much like we’ve remained—
and created humans.
That spiced shit up, didn’t it?

People think creation ended
when the worlds were made.
They have no idea.
Infrastructure doesn’t sustain itself.
What do they think that incident,
the one with Rind was all about?
You were battling fire and ice again,
like an artist with rather violent media.
The worlds need ever renewing,
by Gods and humans alike after all.
No time to rest. Renewal purifies
drives back Your enemies for a time,
and Yggdrasil grows.
That end justifies any means.

Oh, frenzied God,
You are ever laser-focused,
beautifully vicious,
a formidable Power.

Let no one think Your wanderings
are without purpose.
You are the Architect of Creation
and if it takes a little more blood,
gore, and guts to make that creation last,
that’s just fine with You.
It will continue as it was begun,
and You will too.

You fill the head of Your devotees
with ice and fire, flickering in a desolate wasteland,
with glimpses of creation, and that which is to come.
May we ever be smart enough,
devout enough, and sensible,
to aid Your work or get out of Your way.
May we never oppose You,
but nourish Your fury
with venerative fire of our own.

Hail to You, Odin,
Runatyr, Gangleri.
Hail to You, Atriði, Eternal Enemy of the Wolf.
You are the whirlwind that does its own reaping,
the whispering terror on every field of battle,
walking will and brutal splendor.
We are Your grateful retainers.
Hail to You, Odin.

(by G. Krasskova)

Day 7 – For Frigga

Holy One, Great One of Heaven,
let all right-thinking people
bow their heads before You.
Your Presence purifies.
It restores divine order.
It radiates glory
and fills the soul with joy.
You, Graced and Gracious,
are the ever-renewing Source
of the holy power that
sustains the scaffolding
of the cosmos.
You, Sweet and Glorious Goddess,
Restore rightness to the world.
Weaver of Clouds, lift us up.
Teach us, gently, to turn our minds
to holy things, to indulge the longing
of our hearts for devotion,
and to live our lives
reaching ever toward You.
Holy Mother, Giver of good things,
Bestow Your blessings upon us,
That we may truly see the rightness
of reverence.
Hail to You, Frigga.
Hail to You, Holy One.

(by G. Krasskova)

Day 6 – for Frigga

You are the Mighty Witch Queen,
Oracle and Seer of the Gods.
The threads of Fate are at Your fingertips
and the Nornir alone equal Your skill
in reading those sometimes-twisted skeins.
It is from Them that You learned
to lay those mighty threads
and You have honed that power well
nurturing it deep within
the ferocious fastness of Your breast.

You work Your will, Weaver of charms,
through conjure and cunning.
Often Your techniques are hidden
behind the modest ways of the well-run home:
spinning and thread-craft, cooking and care,
the management of Fensalir,
the overseeing of servants,
and most of all the keen-edged-threat
of Your ever-so-gracious hospitality.
Your ways preserve the Aesir
and by Your power order is sustained
across the architecture of the cosmos,
the rainbow bridge little more
than another thread
through the needle of Your will.

Eleven Mighty women stand proudly in Your service.
Every Queen needs loyal retainers
and They are the lynch-pins of Your court.
They are Your eyes across the winding paths of Bifrost,
Your ears wherever human or alf,
dwarf or God or errant wight might wander.
Let me list Them. They work Your will.
and Their names are power:

First among Them stands Your sister,
golden-tressed and stately Fulla.
She is Keeper of all Your secrets,
nearly as wise as You,
and there is none more trustworthy in any court.
Her counsel is precious, her judgment unerring,
and She is Your loyal,
(sometimes red) right hand.

Then there is Gna and Her steed:
shiny-hooved Hofvarpnir,
second only to Sleipnir
in endurance and speed.
She carries Your messages
across all the Worlds,
and carries information back to You in turn.
Few think to watch their words in Her presence.
They underestimate Her at Their peril.
Like Heimdall, She hears all.
Thus, like Heimdall, do You as well.

A Queen requires a ferocious guard.
Doubly powerful and weapons-wise
stand Hlin and Syn in Your service.
They guard Your door from usurpation,
battling malicious wights,
driving back enemies and pollution
from Your holy spaces.
They bear the cost of this well and firmly,
for They allow nothing malignant
to impugn Your holiness.

Also within Your Hall,
the heartbeat of Your court,
maintaining harmony
amongst Your many
potentially fractious guests,
sits Snotra, elegant and wise.
Nothing escapes Her notice
and there is no plot She cannot untangle
(and no treachery She cannot engender,
should You desire it, kind and sweet
though She may seem).

Lofn and Sjofn do Their part too,
moving amongst Gods and mortals both.
They foster affection and love,
sometimes lust and longing—
whatever pleases You or furthers Your plans.
These gifts They bear are sacred
but also powerful distractions.
This is often convenient.
Your Husband knows this too.

At Your counsel table sits Gefion,
regal, great, and mighty,
She too a Sovereign Power.
She fosters alliances between Gods,
land-wights and kings.
In politics and cunning,
amongst Your retinue,
only You are greater.

In like fashion keen-eyed Var,
mind as sharp as steel,
stands unswerving witness
to all negotiations and contracts,
be they small or large,
pertinent to Your interests.
Woe betide any foolish enough
to break their given word.
She does not forgive
and vengeance is also sacred.

Eir is Your court’s physician,
the mightiest Healer amongst the Reginn.
She is Your hand in battle
and Her mercy is as unyielding as the dead.
Like Fulla, She keeps silent counsel.
Like Fulla Her hand too is sometimes red.

Saga brings to Your use the magic of Story.
She sits often in Your hall,
when not working in Her own,
listening and crafting Her word-spells,
teaching the ways of holiness and valor,
of honoring the dead,
of nourishing tradition
to those wise enough to listen.
She whispers glory in Her word-art,
and She is the memory of all the worlds.
In Her youth, She apprenticed at Urda’s well,
drinking deeply of its bounty.

Finally, Vor, Your most gifted Seer,
stands at the threshold of all the worlds.
She serves as Your assistant
when You spae upon the threads.
Every volva should have a singer of charms
an invoker of chants to open doors,
call the spirits, ward the space,
and bring the volva back to Herself again.

Long and lengthy, this list of Your allies;
through Them Your reach is lengthy too.
You have no need of endless wandering,
You have Power come to You.
This is one of Your greatest secrets.
This is one of Your greatest spells.
Through Your inspiration,
and through the example of Your Holy Women,
may we learn well the ways of reverence.
May we be efficient and ruthless
in supporting the sacred order of the Gods
through devotion, piety, and right action.
May we nurture what ought to be nurtured.
May we prune what ought to be pruned,
in our minds and hearts most of all.
Teach us to be gently unyielding
in our commitment to veneration.
Let nothing deter us from walking
the royal road of reverence,
that our faith and our communities
might flourish for generations.
Hail to You Frigga, mighty Queen,
Preserver of the Heavenly Court,
and Hail Your holy retinue.

(by G. Krasskova)