Wind in the Worldtree

This ritual is not my usual fare, it Norse rather than Anglo-Saxon because I wrote it for others. (Also in ancient Norse the "ð" makes a "th" sound.)

Winter has fallen, it’s battles hard won For darkness has conquered the sun The longest of nights has come tonight The coldest of seasons is here The wind heralds, the hunt howls, tonight We have near reached the end of our year Draw near to the hearth, and keep you warm From outside where cold winds blow and storm Tonight is Mother’s night, tonight we remember Our mothers, grandmothers, who to sheltered us here Listening to them spin tales next to dying ember’ Tonight, we once again lend them our ear

Three candles we light, one just an old stub, So well used tis only a small nub For our foremothers, we give thanks

Second, for our own mother(s) who here or not, Has (Have) us so much given and taught For our own mother(s), tonight we give thanks

Third, one candle brand new, never lit For daughters who one day beside a hearth will sit For (our) daughters, now and future, we give thanks

Remember the goddesses, for candles three Weaving and spinning together your family tree Tonight, give thanks to all mothers come and gone as we await the rising of the Yule dawn.

The gods did wait on us for ages Their tales on half forgotten pages Yet they speak now to call us anew And set the world right, it is askew

Why did we turn on them? Turn away? Why? Well none alive can rightly say On this, only one thing is now clear They long waited on ears that would hear

Gods of the cold North call to their kin Gods of the warm sands do rise again Gods of the Greeks do speak from warm seas Gods of the groves whisper through the leaves

All the old gods do now awaken Their people fallen and far scattered Their children forgotten what mattered Yet stand we here again unshaken

We, forerunners of a coming age Undo what religious war did wage Magic we rekindle and revive For through man’s doubt our gods did survive

Seasons change, sweeping aside the old, Replacing it with new, cycles untold Lines etched into our once smooth faces Gray appearing even more places

The earth’s face too does change over time Great forests grow where once was green field Glaciers grind rock, great mountains of rime Rivers twist and flood to rich land yield

But the earth, she does all remember Footsteps leave paths, tracing where we went Rain and weather etch rings in timber Each a memory, a testament

Do you feel the longing? I know I do.

I long for the forests, deep forests that today exist only as a memory of a dream.

I long for the earth between my fingers.

I long to farm, to bring forth from the land food for me and mine, to care for it so that it can care for me.

I long to hunt beasts in the forest, take only as needed, and to give reverence to those spirits.

I long for the freedom of isolation - that oppression cannot exist when human numbers are so low you cannot form an army.

I long for community - a small group, a tribe, united in not just common goals but also common views.

I long for the absence of rulers, politicians, beaurocrats, and everything those people stand for.

I long for clean air, clean water.

I long to use my own feet to walk, feel the ground under me, to be unseparated from the earth by a rubber and plastic “sole”, but instead to craft my own shoes from things of the earth itself.

I long for a sky without airplanes, a morning without the hum of automobiles.

I long for a day free from seeing the confused sadness of the other people around me - knowing they miss something but not knowing what it is they miss.

I’d give up the extra lifespan for those qualities of life. I’d take disease and hardship for the challenge of reliance on myself and the few around me.

We made a mistake. Convenience is not worth this loss. Living to 80-90 only to be bedridden by dementia is not worth the loss. Living to 65 only to realize your life was spent in pursuit of retirement and then you were too old to truly enjoy retirement is not worth the loss.

As I lay dying, I want to be fulfilled that I lived a good life.

Brothers and sisters, the Earth is dying. We have slain her. Our numbers, our lifestyle, our comfort, our convenience, our wants, our technology, our progress - these were the murder weapons.