For me, lover of words that I am, I often catch a fleeting glimpse, a wisp of my Gods through poetry. In many ways, I think I was fostered on poetry and from the time I was very, very small, I can point to specific pieces of verse that inspired and shaped me, gave me a sense of beauty in the world, gave me a sense of something that stretched far beyond the few paltry measures that the human eye alone can see from the time I was a very small child. That love of poetry has stayed with me as an adult and it’s one of the strongest bridges from my spiritual life to my mundane life (while in truth, there shouldn’t be such a separation, I think we’re all works in progress and sometimes moving from one to the other is more difficult than others).
One of my favorite poets is Gerard Manley Hopkins. We don’t have much of his poetry (he burned quite a bit of it) but the pieces we do have are stunning, heart-stopping in their lyrical, eldritch, and majestically powerful beauty. My favorite of his poems is the one in which I read Loki into every line. I think perhaps it is my favorite because I read Loki into every line! I have used this as a prayer to our beloved flame-haired God who is also “counter, original, spare, and strange” and His beauty truly is ‘past change’ and when I read this, two of my many worlds: that of the shaman and that of the woman neatly overlap bound together by adoration of Him.
What pieces of poetry (or artwork) do you, my readers, associated strongly with Loki, or draw inspiration from in honoring Him? Each time we name one of these things, each time we spy our Gods through the eternal gateways of art and craft, we give Them yet another window by which They can work and transform this world. So what summons the sense of Him for you?
By Gerard Manley Hopkins
Glory be to God for dappled things –
For skies of couple-colour as a brinded cow;
For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim;
Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches’ wings;
Landscape plotted and pieced – fold, fallow, and plough;
And áll trádes, their gear and tackle and trim.
All things counter, original, spare, strange;
Whatever is fickle, freckled (who knows how?)
With swift, slow; sweet, sour; adazzle, dim;
He fathers-forth whose beauty is past change:
Praise him. (1)