by S. Stockton
Howl, Hangi, and hear my prayer.
Flee not from my feeble flesh, but dance in my dead heart;
Your devouring dervish demands devotion, and the damnation of decadent desires.
Madness unmakes the mightiest of men, but all mad minds are yours, Yggr.
Guide and goad me, Sigtyr; stain my soul all shades sacred.
Cruel yet kind, my blood crusted at the creases of Your wry smile, scream Thy song into my every sinew.
There is release in the languishing laughter let forth in labor for You.
Evermore may my adoration endure, Odin.
Ode to Odin
by Grant Emile Hodel
The one-eyed wonderer,
the cyclopean voyager,
the fury of warfare,
the father of the slain.
Father of the thunderer,
rider of the gallows horse,
walks across the nine worlds,
seeking wisdom to save his son,
so that Ragnarök may never come.
May he find what he seeks,
so that order reigns over chaos,
for all time.
Gifts from Hathor
Oh great Hathor
Queen of the Heavens
Beloved daughter of Ra
Please hear my prayer.
Humanity needs You now more than ever
There is so much ugliness, fear, and hate in the world
It is very easy for us to forget Your gifts of beauty, joy, and love.
Where there is ugliness, please beautiful One, send us beauty
Show us Your magnificent sunrises and sunsets
Let our eyes feast upon our comely lovers
And let us drink in their every curve and contour.
Where there is fear, please Queen of the Dance, send us joy
Send us Your sweet music so we may become joyful
Let us dance to Your rhythms and sway in time to Your sistrum
May we join in a dance with those we had feared.
Where there is hate, please Lady of Love, send us love
Open our hard hearts to let Your love in
May our hearts bask in Your love as a calf basks in the love it receives from its mother
May the warmth of our hearts then spread to other hearts across the world.
Praise be to you mighty Hathor! May we never take Your gifts for granted!
For Óðrerir’s Brewer
You kindled in me a love for brewing
Water, honey, yeast
Sacred magic, old magic
Kvasir’s brood, your spit
Relaxing and maddening
Teasing out the ties
Growling forth from each sip, each gulp
May each brew be a worthy working
Each bottle a sacred vessel
Each glass a welcome offering
Alliterative Poem to Odin
Wind and wound
Scream and spell
Health and harm
Scar and sense
Wrath and release
Power and purpose
Grey and gold
Eye and iron
Hanged and hale
When the Sons of Borr took up the spear
No ravens flew or wolves roamed
Nifelheim was far too cold
Muspelheim far too hot
They dreamed of more than ice and mist, fire and smoke
A World teaming with life, with warmth and with cold
A World full of flowing waters and rain
A World between the the Worlds
So when They slew Ymir
The Sons of Borr took up the best of all Worlds to make Midgard
Fire from Muspelheim gifted by Surtr
Ice from Nifelheim taken from Ymir
Fertility from Vanaheim gifted by Freya, Freyr, and Njordr
Wildness from Jotunheim made by the Jotnar
Riches from Svartalfheim dug deep by the Dvergar
Liminality from Alfaheim made by the Alfar
Death from Helheim overseen by Hela
Potential from the Ginnungagap woven by the Nornir
Within the Middle Yard each World was woven to the others
Crafted with care by the Sons of Borr
I clean and redo my shrines several times a year and almost always on Dec 30 and 31. Here are a few shrine pics from three of my non-Norse shrines. I’ll post a couple of my most well loved Norse shrines (Odin, Sigyn and Loki, Mani) probably tomorrow. I can’t get a good shot with how they’re positioned now. I want the daylight.
Hermes, right by my door, with a small section given to Cardea, Whom I’ll be honoring this new year’s eve. (yes, there’s a huge Loki and Sif image there, but mostly because that’s the closest i can get to Loki’s shrine. I actually did div to figure out if it was ok to hang there).
Apollo, Asklepios, and Hygeia — it’s much larger than what you can see here, but I couldn’t get back far enough to get a full shot of it.
Finally, my shrine to the Archangels. (I began my work as a ceremonalist thirty years ago and have maintained the devotional relationships. I totally moved this shrine tonight and it is now also by the door, right across from Hermes).
This is a new translation of the ‘Havamal,’ that takes into account the varying metrical structure in the original. Because it is so long, and because WordPress won’t allow me to maintain the spacing, i’ve uploaded it here as a PDF. It is by C.L.T.
On the darkest eve of the year
when Nut’s black skin shimmers radiant
the people trembled in the cold—
what would emerge in darkness’ womb?
It was not radiant Re in His barque,
nor shining Set with His russet spear;
it was not Neith of the weaving ways,
nor even Isis Greatest-in-Magic.
She came forther, Hathor of Golden Horns,
tiaraed in turquoise, lapis lazuli Lady,
standing like a pillar of earth and heavens
upon a ford in a river of milky white.
“Between sun and moon, smiles and blood,
between life and death, breath and silence,
between day and night, flower and sleep,
between winter and spring, chill and grain—
only I may hold the balance.
Which of my hands on outstretched arms raised will you take?”
These are the words of the artisan Ptahmassu,
Beloved of Ptah, the master color artist,
Great Director of Craftsmen in the House of Ptah
Who has spent his life making images of the Gods,
Who propitiates the Gods through the works of
His hands, dynamic in the Soul-Mansion of Ptah,
Whom Ptah the Lord of Ma’at loves:
Rise, O Goddess, bedecked in the trappings of Ra,
Shining of face like the Disk at sunrise,
Acclaimed by the Vault as its mistress,
Heiress of the sky whose embodiment glitters
With fine gold!
Rise, O Hwt-Her, Hand of the Netjer!
Your body, young and perfectly appointed,
Causes Atum to rise in His season,
His passion becoming the verdant land,
His seed bearing the fruit of the Sacred Land.
Rise, O Hwt-Her, the Golden One,
Upon whose brow radiates the Eye of the Disk,
Whose radiation flares as the Cobra Goddess,
Her terror filling the hearts of gods and humankind.
O Beautiful One, the perfect countenance of
Her father in his sky, Ra has lifted you up,
Your body forming the domain of heaven,
Your navel becoming the great Mooring Post.
The Ark of the Day shines by your light!
The Ark of the Night follows your glistening
Thighs into the realm of the Blessed.
Rise, O Hwt-Her, Mansion of the Lofty,
The House of the Falcon, the Residence of the
Your embodiment is the seat of the Eye,
Whose wholeness becomes you,
Whose powers shine through you,
Whose life is renewed at your coming home
From the south.
Djehuty the Lord of Eight-Town comes out
To hail you, acclaiming your powers, and
Leading you to your throne at the Filling of
The Wedjat Eye.
Rise, O Hwt-Her, Mistress of Turquoise,
Mistress of real Lapis-lazuli, upon whose
Limbs glitters indestructible gold,
That skin of the gods which brings joy
To the hearts of humankind, through whose
Magic the netjeru possess the entire circuit
Of the sun.
Rise, O Goddess, O Hwt-Her, O Mistress of Love,
Lady of Intoxication swimming through the
Thighs of men!
They see you, their hearts beat fast and their
Loins shudder in rapture.
They hear the music of your feet, the shaking
Of your breasts, the swaying of your hips.
All men make a dance for you, you who grant
The joys of lovemaking, the beauty of the flesh.
Rise, O Hwt-Her, the Daughter of Ptah, His beloved,
The ornament of Ra Whose brow dazzles as the
Eye of the Sun!
Come, O Goddess, in peace and in beauty!
Awaken in peace, O Hwt-Her, awaken in beauty.
Awaken in peace, O Golden One, awaken in beauty.
Awaken in peace, O Lady of Life, awaken in beauty.
Awaken in peace, O Lady of the Green, awaken in beauty.
Awaken in peace, O Eye of Ra, awaken in beauty.
Awaken in peace, O Mistress of the Sky, awaken in beauty.
Awaken in peace, O Mistress of the West, awaken in beauty.
O Goddess, your holy image is established on earth and
Outshines the circuit of the sun, the zenith of your powers
Becoming this image in the eyes of humankind.
Let all honor be yours in it, and the fruits that come forth
Be all things good and pure!
These are the words of Ptahmassu, having consecrated
This body, this ba of the Great Goddess Hwt-Her,
Calling it after Her “Hwt-Her Mistress of the Sky”.
-Consecration prayer for the icon Hwt-Her Mistress of the Sky
By Master Iconographer Ptahmassu Nofra-Uaa