For Mutti, on her birthday
(a year after her death)
It rained on your birthday, Mutti,
and I brought gifts,
small trinkets to lay upon your shrine,
as I mourn the mother
who was my strength and my compassion,
all gone from this world.
I celebrate you too,
even if I cry as I do so.
Sometimes I feel as though
I need only search far and wide,
travel again to all the places we have been;
sometimes it seems
that if I haunt the right places,
I shall catch an echo of you,
maybe even find you for true,
secreted away somewhere
like a hidden treasure,
and we but children playing some game.
But it isn’t so.
It is hard for me
to look even now with the eye of memory
on those places and times we shared,
especially those last few days
before you danced your way
along the Helvegr.
It still hurts to know that until I die,
we shall only be able to stand
on our respective sides
of that primal chasm,
our endearments carried along
that blade sharp bridge
from which no mortal soul returns.
I know though, that as these things go,
one day I’ll find my joy again,
and all those things I gave in token’s toll
that you might travel well,
the road no living foot may trod.
I can be patient.
You taught me that,
and how to live,
and love the living.
For now though I bring paltry gifts to your shrine.
because I love you. Because I honor you:
the mother given me by a miracle of the Gods.
I am no poet. I only gnaw upon that fire
when seeking to summon Gods with the warp and weft of my words.
All of that fails me here.
It does not matter.
It is your birthday.
Your daughter loves you, Mutti.
Always.
Everything else will find its place in time.
Happy birthday, my miracle mother.
*****
And a wish for those reading this:
In the name of all the Gods and ancestors,
May you be loved.
May you know that you are loved.
May you have and savor your portion of joy;
and may it be enough
to sustain you always.
Someone asked me recently in an interview what I did first upon awakening. I said flippantly that I usually groan and wonder why I am awake, but then I stopped and gave the question the answer it actually deserved: I pray. My Odin shrine (one of them) is right at the foot of my bed (ironically right next to a Freya shrine) and it is usually the first thing that I see when I open my eyes. So when I wake up, I see the sacred images of a God I love more than breath itself, a God who has honed and blessed me in so many ways. My first thought upon really awakening, once the fog of sleep and desire for more sleep has been cleared away, is a prayer. Oh I’m not talking about anything formal or structured, but simply “Gracious God thank you.” Or ‘Odin, be with me today” or sometimes – more often than not actually-- just a wordless outpouring of emotion. My thoughts turn to Him.
Still, I like morning rites and prayers, even though I rarely do anything quite so formalized. Mornings tend to be the only quiet time in my house, the time when I am alone and have the solitude to concentrate and prepare for my day. It’s the time when I can ready myself to meet the world---whatever that may entail in the day that follows. I like the idea of having some way of centering that day around the Gods and ancestors, some way of reminding oneself that we’re not alone as we scurry forth and bustle about.
Today, in honor of the Deity of the month series, I would like to share the following morning prayer to Freya, kindly submitted to me by my colleague Kira. If anyone has any prayers or rituals, poems, or stories about Freya that you’d like to submit, please contact me at Krasskova at gmail.com.
A Morning Prayer for Freya
By Kira R.
(light a candle)
Freya, Goddess of gold,
inspire me today.
Teach me to walk through my day
with pride in my own being,
with confidence,
with power.
Goddess of fiery passion,
bless me with the insight
to the marrow of my bones
that I am a person of worth
in the eyes of the Gods
the eyes of the ancestors
and of myself.
May I radiate this
and transforms all I meet.
That is my prayer for this day, oh great and powerful Goddess,
that I may mirror Your presence throughout my day.
In return, I shall praise You always,
and lay amber before Your image,
consigning it to the sacred fires that burn
when the day is at its longest.
Hail Freya, shining Goddess of gold.
I praise You.
(blow the candle out)
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