"Hail, entire beam-work of the ancient roof of the sky;
Hail, Wyrd-spirit that penetratest from sky to earth,
From bright-homes above to dark-homes below,
And from the broad, plowed earth
Even into the midst of the Nine Worlds,
To the uttermost bounds of Ice-Hel.
Hail, Nornic spirit that fills me and shakest me...
That which shakes the branches of the Needle-Ash,
That which moved the great cow and the father of giants.
Hail, beginning and end of irremovable Nature:
Hail thou whose weaving moves the fire and rime,
The iron and stones, the winds and salty waters,
Those elements which untiringly render service
To the rightful order of All."
This Journal is for friends of Robin Artisson only. May the Gods bless you, if it is right that they should do so.
Fetch: cheerful
Owl Sounds: Loreena McKennitt
143 Eyes of Wood | Pluck out your Eyes