My newest post is up at Patheos (actually it went up on Friday, but it was a holiday weekend.) A Prayer of Thanks of Njord and His Children
Do many Heathens pray? Yes. Do they admit to praying? Not all of them, apparently. *shakes head* My opinion is that part of it doesn’t fit with the “I bow to no one!” mantra that some Heathens have. Also, some Heathens are agnostic, or for whatever reason just don’t do it. It’s an individual choice. Still, as a devotional polytheist, that’s a topic that I have strong opinions about. I will definitely be taking on at some point, but that day is not today.
In the meantime, here’s a great post on Heathen prayer by Alyxander Folmer, of Wyrd Words at Patheos, and Huginn’s Heathen Hof, here). Great, snazzy-looking and sounding prayers for Odin, Tyr, Thor, Njord, Loki, and Skadi, who apparently are the top six deities that his readers have requested prayers for from his website. Where are the rest of the Vanir, though, I ask? Either I, Molly Khan, or Laine Glaistig shall have to take up this slack. Challenge accepted. 🙂
(As channeled by my dear friend Thenea, here.) This whole poem: Yes, and yes, and yes.
I am Freya
I am War. I am Love.
To me, all is beauty: I behold the terrible majesty of all creation.
I am all beauty: The majesty of the world returns my adoration
I stand before you without judgment.
Holy is the blood of death – beautiful in its completeness
Holy is the blood of birth – beautiful in its potential
Mine is the dance of battle, danced to the beat of harsh-clanging metal
Mine is the dance of sex, danced out rhythmic and sweet, to a song voiced by lovers.
This is who I am.
I am all love, and love all.
Doubt not that I love you, also
The meager of heart have naught but hollow threats to defend their place
The frightened and childish shall storm up and take their baubles home when challenged.
But I am no frail and bitter tyrant, hoarding power without purpose;
I am no voiceless coward who stands before iniquity in silence.
I am Life. I am Death. I am the magic between.
I am Freya
Blessed are the lips of my Lady for She bestows Her kisses on the lonely and lost. Freyja’s golden tears are gifts to the multiverse. Thankful and humbled am I to be in the presence of a woman so generous and great. She has shed tears for me. I offer Her my resilient heart in return so that She may boost Her own strength.
She is the song in my limbs, the joy in my laughter, and the vigor of my grief. Freyja takes the wounds of me and transmutes them to gold. I offer Her my shedded snake scales so that She may remember all of me for always and forever.
May She remain with me for aeons uncounted and into the timelessness.
May we always dance together. Please, dear gods I ask You, may I always dance with Freyja.
O Beloved Goddess, thank You for Your embrace.
I went looking for poetry devoted to Freyr, and I came across this beautiful, heartfelt prayer on NothernPaganism.org.
Prayer for Light, by Joshua Tenpenny
Hail Frey, my Fulltrui, god of my heart,
You are with me now,
as you always have been,
and always will be,
in times of need, and of plenty,
in times of folly, and of wisdom,
in times of sorrow, and of joy.
Help me to remember
that the spark of your light
which resides in my heart
can be kindled into a bright flame,
of love, and of hope, and of joy,
if only I will it,
no matter how bleak the circumstances.
Help me to remember
that Love is an infinite resource,
an inexhaustible supply,
which does not need to be saved
for some special occasion,
or measured out by the teaspoonful,
given only when earned.
Help me to remember,
that I can share this light with others,
without passing judgment on them,
and that withholding it harms me
far more than it harms them.
Help me find the strength
to release anger, fear, and despair,
and choose joy.
In your name, may I always choose joy.
I’m been getting the “I love you and all, but no, really–I love my kin, too, so….” from my dear Lady. Which is true; I sometimes focus on her to the exclusion of her otherwise cool and much adored kin–Freyr and Njord, in particular. Freyr and I have an interesting relationship, in that it’s more of a dance that a relationship as of yet, but I’m sure that will change in time. Njord, though–Njord I love. He is a Daddy and I am a Daddy’s girl, particularly as I’m one of Freya’s. I have never received anything from him but generosity, love, and joy. He’s like the great-grandfather I’ve always wanted but never had.
So, for Njord, I offer an Anchor Steam beer, and this:
Ode to Njord
Hail to the wise, sea-weathered God
The generous and calm Van
Father to Freyr, and Freya, his sister
Who brings the fishermen safely home to their kin
with tales and treasure in equal measure.
Hail to the father of the Vans
Husband to Skadi, a huntress bright and sure
And dweller of Nóatún, when not visiting his independent bride.
Perhaps no one would have partnered better with her than him,
(he did raise strong-willed Freya, after all).
Hail to this comely God, of the shining white feet,
and the hearty laugh, and the happy home.
Hail the father of the Vanic twins!
This–this-is what all of the “open-door/we support you” statements and policies should say, in my opinion. This is what should underlie the thoroughly clear, concise, and logical wording that goes into those statements. Spoken in the language I understand best, poetry and prayer, this is what it should sound like. (You can find the original post here.)
The place of the witch is beside the downtrodden.
Power used to harm the innocent is falsely borne.
Power used to punish out of reason betrays the law.
Blood on the ground cries out for justice;
When will it be heard?
Like the women of the isles keening,
Bare knees on the ground, long hair streaming,
Like the bards who spoke the glam dicenn,
We too cry out for justice;
By whom will we be heard?
For those whose sight is dimmed and twisted,
A sword of truth to cut the veil from their eyes,
The Hag’s healing knife to scrape away the scales,
A bright light as the noonday sun,
So they may see clearly.
For those who sleep uneasy,
Fearing the call in the dead of night,
Fearing the knock at the door
Wondering if their anguished cries are seen and heard,
We see you. We hear you.
We raise our voices with you and our hands in power, in defiance, in blessing.
May your children go forth in safety and return home whole.
May your deeds be seen with the eye of compassion.
May all that you and your ancestors have given,
Prosperity, knowledge, art, music, magic,
Return to you in abundance.
May luck and peace be yours,
May you find justice, and comfort in your grieving.
So mote it be.