pejuta wakinyazi

by

Kringlans Kalender 2019 / Meru’s Wisdom, Dec 5th

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His shrivelling hands reached up to the skies. The nine falling stars met the node of his staff. A flash of lightning, a scream of connection, the wind ceased blowing and the earth whispered for a little while.

The wizard stepped down from his stone. Tired. Weary. He should be happy. Should be fulfilled. He was too tired to feel anything. He needed to lie down.

Crawling,  his hands searched for  the softest stones on the pebble beach. The waves were gently caressing the rocks. No tide tonight, just the movement of a silently dancing starfish and dolphins.

His hands found a spot of stones carefully polished by eons of ice and water. Here he would rest. Here he would regain himself.

He laid down, placing the staff beside him, covering it with the grey cloth and moss he carried in his pouch. He leaned in to the stone covered earth. Closed his eyes. Sssshhhhhhh…..

New stories would be written. Covering up what was between the old stories and the now. But who would write them? He was worried. Sssshhhhh….

The mist of sleep fell over him. Lulling him in to the space in between the veils. No moon tonight. What was to come?

– Cecilia Götherström, Dec 5th 2019

 

by

Kringlans Kalender 2019 / Meru’s Wisdom, Dec 4th

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“Thrssss, thrsss, thrsss”.

The sound echoed over the white covered earth. Up above the mountain, in the starlit sky, a white dragon was painting the rune Thurisaz with her breath.

“Thrssss, thrsss, thrsss”.

Paws breaking through the crusty surface. Yellow eyes. Fur dark as the night sky.

Craft moved through the night like he always did. Owning it. Nobody noticing him. Ever. Considering his gigantic stature and enormous energy field it was surprising. But not to him. The humans living in this valley, on these mountains, closed down when they sensed a force so strong, so transformative that anything was possible. Limitlessness was not something they felt comfortable with, not something they’d been raised to understand.

“Thrssss, thrsss, thrsss”.

The aurora borealis in the sky, the elements, the grass, the woods, the stream, the lake, the mountains, they all walked with him. In ancient tales bards had sung his praise, many Völvas had told his story.

Craft was everywhere. Always. Just like Star. Just like Meru.

He cut short right in the middle of the large open field, right on top of the snowcovered lake at its centre.

He could sense her approaching. Slowly.

Star.

Somewhere between the clouds in his memory he could feel the two of them calling in Meru too. Without Grey,  Meru, no point. Whether they would find Red or not was up to how the three of them got together.

Meru had a companion though. That was the cloudy feeling. Craft could not really make sense of the energy until he realized it was human. A human in the mind of the wolves ? Like almost fully inhabiting it?  Well, that was about time. Time to let the human heart in.

”This could be a game changer”, Craft said out loud to himself. ”We shall see…”

 

– Cecilia Götherström, 4 December 2019

 

 

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Kringlans Kalender 2019/ Meru’s Wisdom, Dec 1st

A new star is born

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The wintercoat thickened. Like a new layer of atmosphere along this cold ball of lightning. Out of nothingness came life, came light, came a mist as if breathed through the voice of the void. Bright, strong, finely filigraphicially painted across a velvety canvas of the universe.

It´s song sung itself into existence, in to living. What had begun like a seed, like a wish, like an idea, a longing, a spiralling small funkle of snakey energy had started curling in upon and around itself. Spiralling while fuming. Moving faster and faster in an intriquate yet messy pattern, spinning its own being in to life. Not a sparkle and bang like fireworks on new years day. More like a sneaky, slow, quiet, first breath of a sly dragon escaping it´s passage , becoming its own life form ,its own master, its own creation.

It was felt. So strong was the notion of a new star just born that it was impossible to turn any heads away from what was not awaited any more but birthed in to being right now.

Strong. White. Whiskery. Slow. Sly. Clever. Knowing.

Star.

 

– Cecilia Götherström

 

 

 

 

 

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Grace & Gratitude

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The new moon is one day away.

Next to the customary list or lists of what our wishes are for the new moon, this new moon we are being called to listen to Grace and Gratitude.

If Grace and Gratitude were people, what would they tell you?

If you were to sit down with them at the dinner table, or have a glass with them at the open fire place, or if you met them on that packed bus on the way to work in the morning –  what would you share with each other?

What would they wear?

How would they look?

How would meeting and hanging out with them feel?

What would you take away from the meeting?

What would you give them from the bag of treasures you carry around by just being you?

 

Happy New Moon dears, thank you for being who you are in the world!

xxx

Cecilia Götherström, Nov 25th 2019

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MidWinter

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Candlelight, chestnuts and pinecones

Christmastree,
it is just you and me

Comfort, life, breath
Pineneedles, light, sacredness

I stop,
I forget
in a way which makes me re-member

you came from a slope,
which was once me,
specks of atoms, of dust
you grew out of snow
I was

yesterday,
today,
tomorrow,
now

It all just is.
We all just are.

Christmastree,
you and me
are just dreams of traditions,
of what is and what is to come
Nothing more.
Nothing less.

You in my livingroom,
I in your forest.

It all blends,
in this moment
tomorrow
now
then
there
when
who cares?

Let us sing,
let us be the charol.

Have you not always dreamed,
like me,
to be carried out on a chord,
to slide down a tune
echoing in to the wilderness
with nothing to stop you
sounding

Who cares?
What cares?

Let us sing with the stars,
soak the light in to our hearts
Like the candles on your branches,
let us shine through the night

Midvinterblot,
I hail thee

My roots are deeper than the mountain
My home is stronger than my heart
My soul echoes through eons

Take my hand,
carry me away

While remaining here,
watching,
re-membering
taking in your light
Oh Christmastree, oh Christmastree
of Odins heart so strong

Hel.
Whole.
Hel.
Helig.
Holy

Oh , holy night.

Åh, helga natt.

Home.

– Cecilia Götherström, Dec 10th 2018

by

In my heart of hearts I

Akasha

In my heart of hearts I
hear music
sing to my soul

In my heart of hearts I
am music

In my heart of hearts I
spill in to the world of creation
like a brittle waterfall,
a whiskering wind,
like a tone of love,
of wildness,
of quaking wisdom
shivering out of my bones

In my heart of hearts I
know who I am

In my heart of hearts I
melt into the mother,
become the father

In my heart of hearts I
am the speck of oneness,
the soul who is the muse,
the giver of joy,
simultaneously

In my heart of hearts,
there is no stopping me,
No boundaries,
no beginning,
no ending,
in my heart of hearts

In my heart of hearts I
look deep into the brown-yellow eyes
of the enormous white wolf
in the mirror
looking back at me,
eyes full of tenderness,
eyes full of knowing,
soul full of worship

In my heart of hearts I
come home
to who I am,
to who I was,
to who I am to be,
simultaneously.

Cecilia Götherström, Nov 5th 2015
Thank you Roger Housden for the writing prompt!