Prayer to Balder

 

O son of ever-watchful Odin, Balder, best of gods,
I call to you with an open heart, I pray to you
with open eyes. Son of fair Frigga who sought your safekeeping,
who gathered up pledges like flowers in spring,
who begged for salt tears throughout the worlds,
a mother’s love wielded with skill, yet in vain.
Balder, most beautiful, bright-shining god,
there are no words to tell of your glory,
there is no being who burns with your fire. Yours is a tale
of many turns, of what must be and of what must end,
of well-plotted plans and of ill become good.
O Balder who dwells among the dead, holder
of your father’s secrets, hidden hope of all that is,
I honor your story, I honor your might, I honor the worlds
in which you walk. Hail to good Balder, great god of the light!

 

Prayer to Sif for Peace of Mind

Sif of the golden hair, of the fields of good grain,
whose gentle touch it is that stills the rage of Thor,
that calms the fury and the madness of the storm,
merciful one who hears the prayers of women and men,
lay your hand upon my heart, quiet its thunderous beating,
grant me peace of mind and soul, O Sif, I call to you!

 

A Daily Prayer to Sif

I call to Sif of the golden hair, bride of Thor,
fairest of maids, finest of great Asgard’s treasures,
brightest of the nine worlds’ lights. Grant to me, goddess,
a nature kind and patient; let me be the heart
of my home. May my household be a haven
of comfort and cheer, may we ever be warm
and well fed, may my family find fortune and joy.
Sif of field and fruited tree, Sif of the rowan,
I thank you for your blessings, I pray for your favor.

 

To Gerd

Hail to fair Gerd, bright-armed jotun-maid,
daughter of Gymir! You dwelt, content,
in your father’s fine hall, knowing not
that your beauty had stricken great Frey
to the soul, and that all your world would change.
For your favor they offered you apples
of gold, fresh from the basket of Idunn:
you said no. For your favor they offered
you riches untold: you said no. No gift
nor bribe would win your hand, and yet you came
to the green and prosperous lands of the Vans,
a passage not without trouble and tears.
Gentle Gerd, gracious lady of Alfheim,
who knows of what must be, I honor you.

 

To the Ancestors

Beloved ones, friends and kin long gone, family lost
to time and distance, grandmothers and grandfathers
of centuries past, you whose loss still cuts knife-sharp
and you we know only from oft-repeated tales.
Honored ones, you whose lives inspire us, you whose deeds
shaped history for good or ill, whose blood runs through our veins,
you whose bold and restless hearts brought us to new lands,
you to whom we owe our lives and our existence,
we remember you this night. We see your faces
in the mirror each day, we see your spirit
in our children’s eyes. We see the world we live in
and recognize your hand in it; we find our way
through life and know your lives as well. Through the years
we hear your voice, we feel your gaze, we know your love
and care. Hail to the dead, hail to our foundation.

 

To the Ancestors

To all of those who have gone before us,
to all of those whose love we have known
and who we have loved, to all lost friends
and long-gone kin, to all of those whose blood
runs through our veins, whose faces we see
in our children, whose lives provide for us
inspiration and insight, without whom
we would not be, to our ancestors
of heart and of mind, of bone and of breath,
we remember you this night, we honor your lives,
we honor your wisdom, we find you in ourselves.
Hail the beloved dead–we remember you!

 

To the Ancestors

Hail to those who have gone before, our honored dead,
our grandmothers and grandfathers of ages past.
Hail to those who have given their genes, those gifts
from men and women long gone that live on in us,
and to those who have given their love and their care;
whose stories have traveled through generations;
whose deeds and choices have founded our own lives.

Hail to those who have given their work and wisdom
to the world, whose efforts have built nations and
changed the path of history, whose actions have turned
the lives of others in small but essential ways,
those leaders and warriors, thinkers and believers,
farmers and teachers, builders and inventors,
artists and healers and tellers of tales.

Hail to those who have passed from this world to the next,
to those who dwell now within the halls of Hella,
to those who inspire us, to those we recall
with love, to those who watch over us with kind eyes,
whose lives have touched us, whose tales have moved us,
whose wisdom has granted us lessons to treasure.
Hail to the ancestors! Hail to the honored dead!

 

To the Vanir

Hail to the Vans! Knowing ones, ancient ones, mighty ones
who in elder times broke down the walls of Asgard,
who trampled and tore the very field of battle,
who found in the noble Aesir an even match,
a wise accord, a balanced realm of friend and peer.
From Vanaheim your line arose–fair Vanaheim,
land of green mead and quiet wood, of waters deep
and barrows long enclosed. To bright-halled Asgard
came you four–Nerthus and Njord, Freyja and Frey–
to join your might with the fair Aesir, to share
with them your knowledge and your wisdom, to bring
to that land a lusty nature and a merry heart.
Farsighted gods of the Vanir, we thank you for
the roots that dig into the earth, for the black soil
beneath our feet and the seed that lies so deep within,
for the food we eat, for the daughters and sons
who bring joy to our lives and strength to our kin,
for each and every beat of our heart–for all this,
dear Vanir, we thank you. Hail the gods who bring life
to our lives! Hail the gods of shining Vanaheim!

 

To the Vanir

All hail the mighty Vans! From Vanaheim you came,
wise ones, knowing ones, rooted in the deep earth,
in sea and stone, in gold and grain, in life and lust.
In Asgard you dwell, fair-hearted gods of noble tribe,
to live in frith with former foes, to join your might.
Well matched in war, well met in peace, well known by all
within the worlds. Best of guests, finest of allies,
friends of the land-wights, who know much of what will be,
who know what lies within heart and soil. Hail the Vanir!

 

To UllR

UllR of the northern lands, UllR of the cold
and the stinging wind, bow-god, hunting-god,
deer-stalker, sharp-eyed tracker of bird and beast.
We welcome you, we welcome your strength, we welcome
your season. UllR, glory of the gods, bearer
of the oathring, master of bright-halled Ydalir
that stands among the green-boughed yew, rune-master,
son of Sif, elf-friend, wise and prudent chief. Grant us skill
and silence as we step on crusted snow, grant to us
a season safe from harm. Hail to lordly UllR!