A lovely poem about Loki by Sophie Oberlander:
by Sophie Oberlander
“I never sought You.
Those places deep within my heart were far too burned and scarred
To let You in, hard like misshapen stone.
Or so I thought. But I gave much
The first time I hung on that Tree.
Not enough, by far, but just enough to shatter that wall of stone
The barest fragment breaking free.
I heard Your whisper, but turned aside my face
You could not be speaking to me.
I felt Your gentle touch cradling my wounded spirit
As You cradled Odin,
His body bloodied, His spirit on fire beneath that Tree
Long before I climbed its branches.
Was it through Your laughter that You taught me to love You?
Or through the tenderness of Your caress?
I have seen a face of You that few bother to see.
I have felt Your burning passion, gentle and tender beneath the Tree.
Brother, Lover, Friend,
No image of God quite prepared me for You.
You eased away my terror with Your wicked cavorting,
Making a broken child laugh by playing the fool.
I have seen Sigyn’s quiet contentment,
And the love behind Your games.
I no longer understand the trepidation in which others call Your name.
I have seen Your other face too,
When You took me to Your daughter’s realm.
I have seen You, locked in ecstasy,
Summoning up Her wards and wights for me.
My heart’s stone did not so much break
As melt beneath Your flame.
I have tasted Your rage, Your fury at my hurt,
Reveled in the darkest glee
With which You opened the gates of Niflheim to defend me.
No one told me how much You cherish Your children.
I have seen You, Trickster, weeping in anguish
Every one of Your children’s’ wounds piercing Your heart.
And I have seen You in battle, Odin’s equal,
Though Yours a far darker art.
I have heard Your song,
Far sweeter than I ever knew it could be,
As You took my hand, and led me from that Tree.
If it Your stories I cherish most, as we walk Bifrost bridge,
Dancing patterns amongst the stars.
You placed my hands upon the web, and taught me songs to weave.
As I hung for Asgard, through You, for Hella’s realm I reached.
I know how You are feared, or mocked, or thought long bound.
But I know too, it was Your hand guiding me
Through my darkest despair and pain.
And how can I fear Your deepest love,
When it is the freedom of my heart I’ve gained?
Loki, now it is Your burning that I seek.
Let us mingle songs beneath the Tree,
For I adore the flame you have ignited in me.”
~~ The Journey~~
One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
their bad advice–
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
“Mend my life!”
each voice cried.
But you didn’t stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do–
determined to save
the only life you could save.~
Loki, bring me to change
Loki, teach me innovation
Loki, be the cleansing fire
The source of my liberation.
They’ll take you places you didn’t want to go,
and see things you never wanted to see,
but be not afraid,
for they are there with you,
Years ago – quite possibly more than 10 years ago – I found the above (unattributed) quote on a blog.
So I wrote that quote down in the daily paper journal I kept, as I did not have my own blog at that time.
And though I could not put my finger on why this quote resonated with me so long ago
it occurred to me this morning that it pretty much sums up
(A Prayer to Be Free of Masks, [WIP])
All of my life I have been wounded
By the judgments of others, the shame of others,
And I’ve been holding myself prisoner
With my own judgments, my own shame.
So I put on many masks
To hide my wounds, to hide my shame.
Masks of strength and certainty
To hide my fear and my vulnerability
Masks of indifference and anger
To hide my grief and my pain.
Help me, Loki
To set myself free.
Reveal my lies to me.
Take my masks from me.
Show me my truest self
Teach me to be fearless
With no need to hide
Behind these masks.
(a work in progress)
Hail to You, Silvertongue, Relentless One
Sovereign-Maker and World-Breaker.
Giver of Gifts, Sneaky Ton of Bricks.
(Problem Solver & Player of Tricks)
Hail the Son of the Lightning-Struck,
Agent of Change, and Bringer of Luck.
Wolf-Sire, Sacred Funeral Pyre.
Raven’s Friend, Crow’s-Father.
Sif’s Barber and Skadi’s Laughter.
Vultures Path, and Gefjon’s Wrath
Mover of Stories, and Wearer of Masks.
Hail to the captain of Naglfar, the brightness of the Sirius star
The one who made the Völva’s heart a feast, the father and mother of monstrous beasts
You’re forever in-between, my Liminial One
My Beloved Loki Laufeyjarson.
Last month, I began reading Elizabeth Vongvisith’s Be Thou My Hearth and Shield: Prayers in the Northern Tradition, an excellent collection of prayers and poetry she edited for Asphodel Press in 2009.
I’d read some of the reviews on Lulu, and as one reviewer put it, ‘This book is excellent! It sits at my bedside as I read the prayers daily…..‘
As I have found myself doing that very same thing, I could not agree with zir more.
This is an excellent book, one which I would highly recommend to anyone who seeks to connect to the Norse Gods, let alone Loki.
And today, for my sixth post, I’d like to share this heartfelt prayer-poem by April Ragan, which resonated with me deeply:
Ritual (for Loki)
What need have I for chants
When every rise of my lungs
Breathes for You
A hallowed hymn.
What need have I for music
When every beat of my heart
Drums for You
A sacred tattoo.
What need have I for dance
When every gesture of my being
Moves for You
In a rhythm of devotion
What need have I for magic circles
When every piece of my soul
Burns for You
In a consecrated ring of flame
What need have for these accompaniments
When the essence of my being
Is a life-long ritual to You.*
*Elizabeth Vongvisith, editor, Be Thou My Hearth and Shield: Prayers in the Northern Tradition, (Hubbardston, Massachusetts; Asphodel Press, 2009) p. 125