Tuesday, March 25, 2008

Poetry IS devotion

Connecting to the Holy is a powerful Gift with which we have been blessed.

Poetry is one such method I use. It is also my main way of gaining understanding of the Aesir, Vanir and other Wights seen and unseen.

As always, 1st stave is repeated as the Burden. This poem was sparked
by photos taken by a friend of a storm off the shore of Argentina.

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Storm Jarl

Tales are told of, mighty Holies
Born of forces, far beyond ken
Strivers, thinkers, seekers, do-ers
Thor is one such, Warding All Worlds

O'er the whaleway darkness rises
Stars are blocked out, stormheads growing
Roiling upwards, from the wavetops
Clouds of battle; waging ever
- Burden -

Midnight's silence, air is heavy
Mood is heavy, steps are heavy
As I walk slow, upon the sands
At the edge of Aegir's Seaheim
- Burden –

I turn my face into the wind
And feel the sting of salty spray
Upon my face and in my lungs
It heartens me and gives me strength
- Burden –

Sight is eerie, golden flashes
Lightning dances, in the distance
Striking crosswise, striking downwards
Into my ears, there comes no sound
- Burden –

As I look on, wonder begins
All is too calm, thunder's sleeping
Bursts like Noonday, over Midgard
Lighting my steps, across the dunes
- Burden –

Flame bright sword tongues, split the darkness
Within my heart, and on my skin
I feel the heat, as the flashes
Touch the wavetops, and cook the air
- Burden –

Comes a rumble, low and far-off
Great the distance, storm it must be
Like the roar of distant cannons
Which I heard when young man I was
- Burden –

O'er the whaleway darkness rises
Stars are blocked out, stormheads growing
Roiling upwards, from the wavetops
Clouds of battle; waging ever
- Burden -
- Burden -

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