River demon poem

I understand that today celebrates the river demons who navigate tumultuous water, encourage waterfalls, and guide with their currents.  Read more here:



“Those Who Send the Current”


Today’s for those “who send the current,”

And call us to the water’s descent,

As inside our heart sends our tide,

Beating with all we have pent up inside.


Every so often we need our selves to fall,

To leap over the edge,  down gravity’s hall-

To stop fighting the pull of currents

To let our own limbs take offense-


Follow our natural side, dropping all inside

Our direction stays same, just with a cleaner hide-

The river demons carry us with water sent,

If inner rivers follow, we’ll reach the release meant:


Our surges, rapids, blood, breath, thought,

Go over the edge.  We are no longer caught.

Where cascade falls with tides well given and spent,

There lie the stones of “those who send the current.”







Ior “Spinning in the Wheel” poem

“Spinning in the Wheel”


Thumbelina’s rest and home inside a shell,

The orb that knows woman’s same as swan,

The warriors of legend that shun death at a bell,

The maid who left mer with fins and singing gone,


All learn that boundaries can be crossed,

All know that lines are real

Enough to give reward only when something’s lost,

But its space isn’t empty, but hung like a wheel


With spokes of what the journey teaches,

With yarn think of the secrets you steal

When bending the story your step over reaches,

With blood you’ve spent now ready to heal,


That spinning wheel binds you to one place,

But its twining threads whisper that fates do blend,

There’s a ring spinning where all worlds are one space,

Where wild chases are still and violent passions do mend,

Where inside’s just nature with a shut door,

Where mirrors show present, future, and past,

Where desire is enough and fulfillment no more,

Where the Round Table seats no first or last,

Where Pied Piper’s children found their families in the stone,

Where land and water mingle, separate yet as one,

Where even Peter Pan can give a love full-grown,

And the ever-spinning Fates know ever’s the same as done.


This magic forging apart to same,

This living freedom bears a name.

Circling the earth, it still touches the core,

Strums to harmony, stirs fruition galore,

True fairy tale transformation is bound to lithe Ior.


Crossposted to http://wheresmytower.wordpress.com/

Fehu poem

“A Bit Gained”


A little bit higher is a bit of hill gained,

If you know what you have, you’ll know when you’ve more.

All can mend together whole, even broke or sprained.

To build around limbs hale or fortunes sore

Leads into peace, prosperity, fair flowers when it’s rained.


Even one coin can pay when found hard to bite.

Empty ground can yield up gold if tested with might.

You can see so many things with just the smallest light.

Many dark thoughts disappear on meeting a kind sight.

Even bent and thorny roads, with Fehu, can turn right.


Add a little, end some pain, win a little, find your struggle waned-

A little help from Fehu is a precious gift you’ve gained.

Musical Tension

I had a strange experience last night.  I was undergoing a lot of stress and my body was tossing and turning.  Then, in a natural, unconscious motion like a stretch, my arms went moved-one went straight  up over me as I lay sideways.  The other went out in front of me, but crooked, so the my hand and fingers were bent back over the space created between the arms.  My fingers began strumming, as if there were strings in that space to be plucked, and as they moved my vocal chords hummed different notes-higher close to my chest and lower farther away.  I tried to stop humming as my jaw’s been sore recently, and could not-my vocals continued to respond only to my arms in particular and the rest of my tense body in general.  Then I just sank into it and allowed my physical self to act out its stresses through this musical movement.  It was a highly strange, therapeutic sensation that is not recreated when I put myself back into that same position.


I’m aware that bodies often play large roles in any life stress.  I’ve also heard of musical healing and therapy.  However, last night still seems like quite a strange incident, especially as I do not play the harp, and have not played any other instrument for rather a long time.  I wondered if anyone had any similar experiences, thoughts, or perhaps are aware of any spiritual presences that might manifest themselves in such a way.



Mimir’s poem

“Mimir’s Blue Well”



Pain is the key to Mimir’s blue well,

Where wisdom lies is to bravely let go,

To let the strain trade in to the spell,

Of the well’s master-for what He can show.



The connection trickles from water to face,

What meets the eye darkens if you really know,

Sweet Mimir’s water can flow and erase

To nourish up blossoms and help beauty grow.



With grace, all thanks and honor must show,

Through words that need shaping and spirit to tell:

Where wisdom lies is to let something go,

Like pain, to unlock deep Mimir’s blue well.

Crossposted on: http://wheresmytower.wordpress.com/

Perthro poem

To today’s Perthro rune, and all its splendor.


“Arms Open”


Arms open wide with mystic Perthro,

Something new arrives upon the Fates’ throw,

I welcome the maid, the lady, and crone.

Wrap me in threads from destiny’s throne.

When the stars mix, all my life feels the stir.

The ripple swings out-it’s the quietest spur.

When the nights blend, I heed the crow,

And open my arms to powerful Perthro.

Uraz poem

To Uraz the bull rune, with my thanks for this day.


“Autumn Charge”


Leaves show their edges when they fall,

Serrated sides cut-at speed or crawl.

When it’s time, trunks shed their weight.

To hold on past use is keeping too late.


With horns, with strength, with will,

Uraz the bull cuts out the too still.

So many things drag-on every plane,

A fierce charge is needed to push us to gain.


To sever with skill and make the cleave clean,

Ride the bull through-the other side is green.