WODEN
One-eyed wanderer, on the whale-road wide,
Cloaked in shadow, where dances of salt-mists ride.
With hat pulled low and spear-staff tall in hand,
Travelling the ancient ways of our green land.
The hoar-frost clings to your grey-threaded cloak,
You sought deep secrets that ancient staves bespoke.
Your ravens, Thought and Memory, take to flight,
Carriers of whispers from the dawn's first light.
On windswept heath, by barrows of the dead,
The lonely traveller lifts a weary head.
Finder of wisdom, gifts from passing sign,
Hidden truths, winding Wyrd threads entwine.
So hail, Grímnir, dark rider of Winter storms,
Whose endless journey keeps alight spirit-shade forms.
Bearer of Yggr's boughs and witness of worlds wrath.
Woden, grey traveller, blessings on wise-wandering path.
This post was kindly co-created using Google Gemini AI, with sincerest appreciation.
