An Uller song

Hail all;

I am in the habit of writing a new Uller song every September for I stand Offering to the Bow Lord at the beginning of each hunting season.

Here is last year's effort. The first stave is repeated as the Burden (chorus) of the song.

I write in blank verse mostly using Long Meter to give some order to the words. The cadence I use is very similar to Longfellow's "Song of Hiawatha " when I recite, rather than sing. I do have a tune for this one worked out.

This song is a little changed from my ususal style, a mix of Long Meter and lines of 6 beats per measure; being a return, from looking at my body of work, to the first few songs I wrote 8 - 9 years ago. The 1st stave is repeated as the Burden of the song.

Weal Warder

Uller, Warder, of Innangard
Woodland Rover, Bright is your Name
Ever trekking, beyond the bounds
Searching for banes, blocking their way

As days grow short, and nights grown long
Thoughts turn to Hearth and Home
To Kin and Kith, who gather round
To wait out winter storms

The longhouses, are snugly built
With firewood laid by
Granaries and, larders are filled
With wealth of harvest time

Burden

Evening time is, when all the folk
Sit together at board
Fill horn and bowl, empty them out
Then await story time

Old Skald does stand, before the hearth
His strong voice weaving tales
Speaks of the Gods, and Clan Warder
Woodswise One, Protector

Burden

'Twas long ago, and longer still
Before the earth was young
The Giants strode, across the hills
God Kin had not been born

Once time did start, others sprang up
Hallowed Ones of two clans
They had a war, then made a peace
And challenged Giants' reign

Burden

Holy Ones saw, some Giants change
They became weal builders
Joined with the Gods, gave Them Kin Oath

One such was called Uller

And then came Man, shaped by the Gods
Odin, Vili and Ve
Man came to know, Hallowing Way
And stories became Lore

Burden

Unerring Eye, and Strong of Arm
Swift and silent in stride
He joined Gods' Clan, and made His place
Ranging bounds of their Garth

Away from all, Godly Comrades
Uller did fend for self
His crafty ways, in woods and war
Did grow in depth and skill

Burden

Of bowman fine, striding along
Hunters had fleeting glimpse
In deep woodland, just at nightfall
He made not track or sound

He vanished from, their line of sight
Then tapped them on their heads
He'd show them how, to better be
Providers for their folk

Burden

They spent two weeks, hunting with Him
Honing the arts He showed
With bow and knife, spear and sling
Body, mind and heart

During the nights, as they rested
Old One would tell them tales
Of banes he'd seen, those he had slain
Of duty to guard weal

Burden

Fortnight it was, but one night's dream
Showed them how to improve
They made a vow, to follow through
Become their best as men

As days grow short, and nights grown long
Thoughts turn to Hearth and Home
To Kin and Kith, who gather round
To wait out winter's storms

Burden
Burden

--
May the Holy Aesir and Vanir strengthen us.
May our Blessed Forebears see us as worthy.
May we ever build for Kin, Kith and Community.

In Grith under Troth - Stefn Ullarsson Piparskeggr

Catamount Grange Hearth - Husband
Oak Shadow Kindred - Skald

http://anheathenreader.blogspot.com/

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http://www.catamount-grange-hearth.org/
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Folkbuilder - Asatru Folk Assembly - IL, IA. MO
http://www.runestone.org/

I feel better

Hello;

It's been awhile.

The hardest part about depression, compunded with a too strong attachment to whiskey, is not to admit that one has a problem, but to believe it.

In many ways, belief come hard for me.

I have always been a thoughtful boy; reading, considering what I have read, walking in the woods, observing the world and people around me...

Alone with my thoughts, so much of the time.

I had contact with others, family members, play mates...

But thinking things out, leads one to rely more on the reasons, than the feelings or beliefs.

Conflict arises then, as I am a deeply feeling person; I'd not be able to write poetry otherwise.

Early in life, I found I had trouble believing in the cradle religion in which I was raised. The stories seemed improbable, though many of the moral and ethical tachings were sound.

Which applies to the above, how?

Knowing a thing doesn't, to my mind, of necessity equate to believing a thing.

Which is where the problem in letting myself heal comes...

Until the past few days, I knew I had a problem, I've discussed it enough over the past few years.

But, I realize I did not Believe that I have a problem.

I do now and I feel better for this.

Now to control the problem instead of letting it continue to control me.