For the Vanadis (a poem by Gudrun of Mimirsbrunnr)

Finally, a lovely poem I’ve been meaning to post for the last few days, but got sidetracked…

For the Vanadis

Hail to the Spring Maiden

on the Equinox morning

as she rises and walks the fields;

flowers bloom in her footsteps

and the earth wakes anew.

O Freya snowdrop-bedecked,

wake my life anew and teach me wonder,

for I am dull and grey with years of burdens

and I have forgotten the mystery of the rising seed.

Hail to the Laughing Dancer

on Beltane morning

as she weaves the maypole’s ribbons

and the wombs of women are filled

as they lie with their loves on the turned earth.

O Freya bright in green and gold

fill me with life like the pealing waterfall,

for I am dull and dry with years of thirsting

and I have forgotten the mystery of the branching trees.

 

Hail to the Summer Queen

on the solstice morning

as she turns the head to love

and the body to loving,

and opens hearts with a touch.

O Freya with tongue and thighs of honey,

open me up like a ripe fruit

for I am dull and withered with years of hunger

and I have forgotten the mystery of the tender blossom.

 

Hail to the Jeweled Lady

on Lammas morning

whose flesh is her treasure,

and worth all the greatest treasure,

all that gold can buy.

O Freya Brisingamen-Bearer,

help me to know my own worth

for I am dull and shrunken with years of downcast eyes

and I have forgotten the mystery of the proud glance.

 

Hail to the Warrior Woman

on the equinox morning,

white-armored, choosing the slain

by her own glorious criteria,

harbor to the defenders of beauty.

O Freya who rides with Valkyries,

give me strength to defend all that I love

for I am dull and frightened with years of defeat

and I have forgotten the mystery of shieldmates in love.

 

Hail to the Mistress of Seid

on Hallows’ morning,

mysterious and seductive through the gauze

of her own wisdom, glowing confident

in the ways of women’s magic.

O Freya wreathed in veils of smoke,

open my eyes to possibility

for I am dull and blind with years of illusion

and I have forgotten the mystery of the candle’s flame.

 

Hail to the ambassador to Asgard

on the solstice morning

a ray of light in a cold white world,

bringing the green of Vanaheim’s fields

and the gold of Vanaheim’s courage.

Hail Freya Frithmaker, Bridge-Builder,

help me to hold out my hands with a smile

for I am dull and closed-in with years of mistrust

and I have forgotten the mystery of the open arms.

 

Hail to Odr’s widow

on Imbolc morning

searching for her lost husband,

whipped by salt-sea wind,

waiting in the winter harbor for her father’s return.

O Freya weeping tears of amber

help me to wake to the dawn of rebirth

for I am dull and beaten with years of mourning

and I have forgotten the mystery of the melting frost.

 

O Vanadis, may I be open to all you have to teach

in spite of all I have become

and because of all I yet could be.

— Gudrun of Mimirsbrunnr

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