Sunday 19 February 2017

Hail Lupercal!

Hail Lupercal!
O hail the Wolf,
In all Her many guise!
The Tearing One,
Who fills the dark,
The Mother of everything!

Hail Lupercal!
O hail the Wolf,
Hail the Wild One!
Hail Her Get,
Hail Her Twins,
The Dancers of the Dark!

Hail Lupercal!
O hail the Wolf,
Hail the Hooded Three!
Hail fair Spinner,
Hail sly Weaver,
Hail the dreaded Cutter now!

Hail Lupercal!
O hail the Wolf,
And hail the Keeper Four,
White Fame and Red,
Green Flame and Blue,
Hail the mighty blowing Winds!

Hail Lupercal!
Oh hail the Wolf,
Hail the Goat and Wolf in one!
Lupercalia,
The feast each year,
An offering to God Herself!

~Hail Lupercal! a poem of Lupercalia by Bethany "Lorekeeper" Davis, February 18, 2017

Friday 3 February 2017

Mists Between the Worlds, a poem of Candlemas

The mists that part,
  By Bride's Day light,
Are mists between the worlds,
They open wide,
  The gates of night,
And allow things to pass both ways,
What died before,
  Comes forth once more,
The serpent's wings are spread,
On Hallow's Eve,
  That sacrifice,
Begins the year again,
Forth from the well,
  Between the worlds,
Scaled form returns once more,
A new year dawns,
  In dark moon light,
And all begins once more,
Upon her forge,
  New year is wrought,
By hammer and by flame,
The raven's call,
  The hope of all,
As she forges the year again,
Now the births,
  In springtime snows,
In cold and solemn moons,
Keeper of Ways,
  Builder of Paths,
Takes now the regency,
Misrule is done,
  That tide is turned,
Bride's Time has come again,
The Trouble Moon,
  It parts and passes,
The Lost Moon begins again.
And awakened now,
  The serpent old,
Begins a journey home,
As they open wide,
  The gates of night,
And allow things to pass both ways,
For the mists that part,
  By Bride's Day light,
Are mists between the worlds.
~Mists Between the Worlds, a Candlemas poem by Lorekeeper, February 3, 2017

Tuesday 2 February 2016

I am the Raven of Dreams, a Poem of Candlemas

I am the Raven of Dreams,
Who wanders the dreamscapes of yore,
I pluck the thoughts and memories,
That aren't remembered no more,
Shiny things in thoughts and dreams,
And babbles of treasure lost,
In memories long faded away,
In dreams that will live on.

I am the Raven of Dreams,
Who wanders the dreamscapes of yore,
My beak will tear and rip and pull,
And feed on memory's corpse,
All is food to the one who calls,
And walks the dusk and dawn,
In memories long faded away,
In dreams that will live on.

I am the Raven of Dreams,
Who wanders the dreamscapes of yore,
And finds lost things that none could find,
And brings them home with me,
The babbles I seek I will always take,
To decorate my nest,
In memories long faded away,
In dreams that will live on.

I am the Raven of Dreams,
Who wanders the dreamscapes of yore,
Up mountains so tall that no one can climb,
But I can fly so high,
Across endless plains no on can cross,
But I can fly so fast,
In memories long faded away,
In dreams that will live on.

I am the Raven of Dreams,
Who wanders the dreamscapes of yore,
Across endless seas where all become lost,
But I can fly so strong,
Through dark woods so dark no one can see,
But I cam fly beyond,
In memories long faded away,
In dreams that will live on.

I am the Raven of Dreams,
Who wanders the dreamscapes of yore,
And finds the secrets among all our thoughts,
And finds out all there is,
The paths I fly no one can go,
The treasures are mine alone,
In memories long faded away,
In dreams that will live on.

I am the Raven of Dreams,
Who wanders the dreamscapes of yore,
I pluck the thoughts and memories,
That aren't remembered no more,
Shiny things in thoughts and dreams,
And babbles of treasure lost,
In memories long faded away,
In dreams that will live on.

~I am the Raven of Dreams, a Poem of Candlemas
by Bethany "Lorekeeper" Davis,
February 2, 2016

Sunday 1 November 2015

Hail, oh, Builder of Storms

You take your throne as winter comes,
Hail, oh, Builder of Storms,
Secrets rest as the Dead rise up,
Hail, oh, Builder of Storms,
We the Lost who few can see,
Hail, oh, Builder of Storms,
We hear your call of winter winds,
Hail, oh, Builder of Storms,
A fire lit that once was cold,
Hail, oh, Builder of Storms,
On winter winds you find your own,
Hail, oh, Builder of Storms,
The year grows nigh as time does stop,
Hail, oh, Builder of Storms,
The time has come for cold Misrule,
Hail, oh, Builder of Storms,
The Gates of Life and Gates of Death,
Hail, oh, Builder of Storms,
Flutter open to part the Veil,
Hail, oh, Builder of Storms,
Speak to me, oh cold Cold One,
Hail, oh, Builder of Storms,
Whom once rode forth all teeth and eyes,
Hail, oh, Builder of Storms,
Your time has come, the dice are cast,
Hail, oh, Builder of Storms,
Coils of ice and coils of snow,
Hail, oh, Builder of Storms,
The Serpent form among the trees,
Hail, oh, Builder of Storms,
The moving sway of Serpent hips,
Hail, oh, Builder of Storms,
The Ice Queen sits as Hallow's Eve,
Hail, oh, Builder of Storms,
Finds its way to All Hallow's,
Hail, oh, Builder of Storms,
The Regent sits high in the North,
Hail, oh, Builder of Storms,
And know her time has come again,
Hail, oh, Builder of Storms,
Hail to you Keeper of the Lost,
Hail, oh, Builder of Storms,
Hail to you who brings the tears,
Hail, oh, Builder of Storms,
The pale Blue Flame of Winter's Night,
Hail, oh, Builder of Storms,
We know your face and Serpent's Tongue,
Hail, oh, Builder of Storms,
The cold Black Altar in the Hall of Stone,
Hail, oh, Builder of Storms,
The Cutter there before the Black Gates,
Hail, oh, Builder of Storms,
Her Black Knife raised to cut the threads,
Hail, oh, Builder of Storms,
And Death's wings spread beside the Gates,
Hail, oh, Builder of Storms,
To guide the Living and the Dead,
Hail, oh, Builder of Storms,
For now the Veil is open wide,
Hail, oh, Builder of Storms,
The Gates are open and swing both ways,
Hail, oh, Builder of Storms,
The Mighty Dead we praise tonight,
Hail, oh, Builder of Storms,
The Blessed Dead we call your names,
Hail, oh, Builder of Storms,
The pulsing call of Bloodline blood,
Hail, oh, Builder of Storms,
The pulsing call of Loreline blood,
Hail, oh, Builder of Storms,
The pulsing call of Fateline blood,
Hail, oh, Builder of Storms,
Blood does call, it calls to Blood,
Hail, oh, Builder of Storms,
Bones do wake and speak once more,
Hail, oh, Builder of Storms,
Memory sleeps in sleeping Bones,
Hail, oh, Builder of Storms,
And Blood awakens the sleeping Bones,
Hail, oh, Builder of Storms,
And quickens now what once was dead,
Hail, oh, Builder of Storms,
On altar top and in the Halls,
Hail, oh, Builder of Storms,
We call you now to come to us,
Hail, oh, Builder of Storms,
To breathe again the breath we breathe,
Hail, oh, Builder of Storms,
And speak this night and speak again,
Hail, oh, Builder of Storms,
And as the Darkness now recedes,
Hail, oh, Builder of Storms,
The Darkling Twin awaits the Bright,
Hail, oh, Builder of Storms,
Misrule reigns and all is Öð,
Hail, oh, Builder of Storms,
Öð and odd, and Wyrd and weird,
Hail, oh, Builder of Storms,
And may the Hunt now pass us by,
Hail, oh, Builder of Storms,
Or may we ride the frightful ride,
Hail, oh, Builder of Storms,
By Winter's Night and crossroad light,
Hail, oh, Builder of Storms,
And ghost roads stretch into the night,
Hail, oh, Builder of Storms,
And troll roads strange and faerie roads,
Hail, oh, Builder of Storms,
That lead out there between the worlds,
Hail, oh, Builder of Storms,
Guide our way with lantern bright,
Hail, oh, Builder of Storms,
We are the Lost, you children tonight,
Hail, oh, Builder of Storms,
Toss your dice for us just right,
Hail, oh, Builder of Storms,
And may the year we now head to,
Hail, oh, Builder of Storms,
Find the dreams the Dreamer dreamed,
Hail, oh, Builder of Storms,
This year manifest this next.



~Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, a Hallow poem by Bethany "Lorekeeper" Davis, November 1, 2015

Saturday 17 October 2015

Pipers

The Twins,
Sometimes enemies fighting,
Sometimes lovers making love,
Sometimes friendly rivals,
Sometimes partners in crime.

The Bright Twin and the Darkling Twin,
Catalyst and Nexus,
Sometimes both male,
Sometimes both female,
Sometimes one of each,
Sometimes lines blurring.

Sometime one under the other's foot, Sometimes vice versa,
And so the Dancers dance,
And the Pipers play.


~Pipers by Bethany "Lorekeeper" Davis, October 17, 2015

Thursday 26 March 2015

In the Gleam Beyond the Gloom

Through the darkness I part the Veil,
And walk the hidden paths,
In the brightness beyond the pale,
I see what none have seen.
There's danger here in the world beyond,
In the gleam beyond the gloom.

And all my days it waits for me,
The calling in my blood,
And through the years I walk the paths,
That very few have seen,
The Veil grows thin as years go by,
In the gleam beyond the gloom.

Through the darkness I return again,
From those fair hidden paths,
And as I walk I learn to talk,
Like I once knew I could,
For few have been beyond the veil,
In the gleam beyond the gloom.

~In the Gleam Beyond the Gloom by Bethany "Lorekeeper" Davis, March 5, 2015


My attempt at translating it into Latin:

Velum parte post umbram,
Et ambulate per semitae occultae,
In splendóribus supra pallidus,
Non video quid viderim.
Non est hic mundus extra periculum,
In splendóribus post umbram.

Et omnibus diebus meis memet maneat
Vocatio in sanguine meo,
Et per annos ambulate semitae,
Valde pauci, quas vidi,
Velum crescit tenuis quod eunt anni,
In splendóribus post umbram.

Per tenebras revertentur
Ex his latet semitas occultae,
Et ego ambulo illis loquela,
Scientes semel ego potui,
Pauci abierunt trans velum,
In splendóribus post umbram.


And a translation of that Latin from an academic translation site:

And the hanging for the part after the shadow,
And walk by the ways of the hidden God,
In the brightness of beyond the pale,
I do not see what I saw,
He is not here the world is out of danger,
In the brightness after the shadow.

The call waits for me,
In my blood, and all my days,
And I will walk you through the years, the highways,
Very few men, that I have seen,
As the years go by the thin veil of the increases,
In the brightness after the shadow.

From these things it is hidden by the darkness,
They shall come again the paths of the hidden God,
And I, I walk the angels have speech,
Yet knowing that once I was able to,
They went to the other side of the veil of the few,
In the brightness after the shadow.

Thursday 25 September 2014

The Starstrone Sky

I stand beneath the starstrone sky,
In the darkness of the night,
A lonely hill, grey in the dark,
A darkness you can feel.

The stars the spin, they move around,
Before my wondering eyes,
Stars not fixed but thought to be,
Stars like dancing fire flies.

And spin they do, but all return,
To their course across the sky,
These pin pricks move yet stay quite still,
In the darkness of the night.

No wonder all the ancient times,
Spirits and gods they were,
Always present, always watching,
But never holding still.

Ancient secrets painted plain,
Above for all to see,
Yet few do see and less do know,
The secrets painted there.

The singing song, the lonely dance,
Of the stars in darkest night,
The tales they know, the things they’ve seen,
And no one knows it all.

Here I stand, they dance around,
I see the sacred plan,
The whirling castle, the Well of Stars,
And all that is drawn to them.

I stand beneath the starstrone sky,
In the darkness of the night,
A lonely hill, grey in the dark,
A darkness you can feel.

~Bethany "Lorekeeper" Davis, September 25, 2014

Friday 13 June 2014

I Am the Fox

I am the raven,
I eat the dead,
I am the raven,
I remember all things,
I am the raven,
I build all,
I am the raven,
I know all things.

I am the otter,
In rivers and creeks I swim,
I am the otter,
I eat and I play,
I am the otter,
On slopes I slide,
Joy is mine,
In the mountain streams,
I own the rivers,
I feed on their fish.

I am the snake,
The serpent I am,
Between and through move I,
On belly I crawl,
Gold are my scales,
Glacier blue and silver,
All colours they change,
First one then the other,
I taste the air with my tongue,
Through my belly,
I listen to all,
Far craftier than all,
The beast of the field am I.

I am the fox,
The vixon am I,
Crafty and wise,
And hard to catch,
In the ground I live,
Cross the fields I race,
Quick and fast,
I take what I want,
Nothing is safe,
If it I desire,
A vixon am I,
Fleet foot and large tail,
Back and forth it moves,
Grace and escasy,
All come to me,
All I desire.

I am hawk,
I soar and I fly,
Above the plains,
All things I see,
None see what I see,
From up above,
Down I soar,
To kill and eat,
Still on a wire,
Or on a fence,
I know when to wait,
I know when it's time,
When prey is in sight,
Not a second to lose.

I am the vole,
Who lives in the field,
Down in the earth,
I burrow and dig,
Across the field,
All seeds are mine,
To eat and enjoy,
From dusk until dawn,
Timid and cautious,
I look to the sky,
I cannot fight,
I'm weak and I'm small,
But many am I,
And many more come,
And still we will be,
When all you are gone.

I am the owl,
Silent and still,
You know not I passed,
Only my wind,
Silent end deadly,
Queen of the night,
I will consume,
Whatever I catch.

I am the horse,
Across the plains do I run,
Swifter than all,
The one none can catch,
I run like the wind,
For we are one kind,
My mane and my tail,
Like banners and flags,
Nothing can stop us,
Nothing can try,
For we're always moving,
The fast wind and I.

I am the trout,
See how my scales glisten,
I am the trout,
At home in the water,
I swim and I breathe,
What causes others to drown,
I listen to the water,
The rivers, the creeks, the lakes,
The secrets I know,
No others can know.

I am the eagle,
High, high I soar,
Queen of the high places,
All others beneath,
What is not prey,
I care not at all,
I and I only,
See what I see.

But above all tonight,
The fox and vixon am I,
Erotic and sensual,
Grace and desire,
In the land where the sun sets,
This land that is dusk,
I am all sex,
The kiss of the dead,
The dusk sets like dust,
It powders my fur,
In the night do I hunt,
In the night do I screw,
My fur is desire,
My tail moves and calls,
I walk here as Sex,
All come to my call.

~I Am the Fox by Lorekeeper, June 7, 2014

Friday 21 February 2014

Guardians of Worlds

Four guardians sit at the gates of worlds,
Who know far more than they know,
Some sit, some stand, some rest beneath,
Their past are lost in the mist.

There is one who rests in the cold north wind,
Who was once a giantess of renown,
No name we know or when she was born,
But she was ancient ere man was born.

There is one who stands in the wind of the east,
Where the rainbow bridge does rest,
A horn to blow, a sword to swing,
And his parents do no one know.

There is one who stands in the hot south wind,
On the edge of the fiery plains,
Wait he does for the end of time,
When he'll march with a fire storm.

There is one who sits by a well, in the western wind,
Three daughters he had, three wells once known,
Nine mothers are known but a father has none,
And his sons shall be well known.

Down the Helway some will come,
To call of the cold north wind,
To rise from the grave and tell the old tell,
Of what will someday come.

The shining one at the rainbow bright,
The east wind does stand guard,
Before the bright city a city or brass,
Where they drink and laugh and flirt.

On the southern plains where fire rages,
And all the plains are ablaze,
the hot south with with a sword in hand,
Waits for the sun to set.

Heads will roll and then speak again,
With the voice of the wise west wind,
A sip from the well that will cost you an eye,
On the edge of the cold ice plain.

Four winds are blowing and will come again,
For compass will ever turn,
Their pasts are obscure and their futures ignored,
And few are there left you see.

Four guardians sit at the gates of worlds,
Who know far more than they know,
Some sit, some stand, some rest beneath,
Their past are lost in the mist.

~Muninn's Kiss, February 21, 2014

Tuesday 21 January 2014

Watching the Sunrise Fade

I sit here, watching the sunrise fade to night,
Remembering, forgetting, remembering,
Remembering my childhood in the twilight of the gods,
The Destroyer raging across the land,
Remembering my teenage years in afternoon of the world,
As the glory of man faded, threatening to go out,
Remembering my early adult years in at high noon,
When man's empires spanned the world,
Rising and falling and rising again,
I remember by middle years in the morning of the world,
As man learned to walk, to run, to farm,
And here I sit an old man, as the sunrise fades to night,
Remembering, forgetting, remembering,
The evening darkness lit as the sun sank and dusk came,
Brighter and hotter it got, as high noon approached,
And colder again as the sun rose from dawn,
Bringing me back here, to the first light, fading to night,
The cold winter warming as leaves rose to the trees,
Then turned from brown to yellow to green,
The crops fading from golden to bright green,
As they grew downward back toward the ground,
And the summer heat fading into spring,
The plants shrinking to buds, then sprouts, then barren ground,
As spring fades now back into winter,
As I sit, watching the sunrise fade to night,
Remembering, forgetting, remembering.
~Muninn's Kiss, January 21, 2014, with a nod to T.H. White and Luke Bryan