Here’s the archive of the show. Starts about an hour in. This was a wonderful experience and I loved seeing the community come together to honor their gods – but I’m never doing this again! EVER. Once more, I sincerely apologize to everyone, divine and otherwise, for my barbaric pronunciations.
Here’s the text we used. Some of the formatting got bungled when I posted this. Damn you, WordPress! I may come back and fix it when I’m not so tired. I cannot begin to thank you enough everyone who contributed! If your piece didn’t make it in to the show I encourage you to post it here in the comments. This was a shining moment for the community – and a great start for 2014!
Hail to you Izanagi-no-Okami, who is not in his grave!
August Izanagi-no-Okami, great august kami of the high divine plain,
whose heavenly jeweled spear churned from the great primordial ocean
from the perch upon the great bridge between the heavens and the earth
the islands of Japan and every green hill and rocky mountain of the earth-jewel,
who with the august Izanami-no-Okami gave birth to the myriad kami,
and who slew Kagu-Tsuchi when he burned his wife to death,
who went to the land of Yomi-no-Kumi to see his wife
who had eaten of the foods of the land of the dead,
and who looked back at her hideous form and fled,
it is you who gave to humans the technique of purification
when you returned from your underworld journey.
Remove from us the stain of death as it was removed by your own hand
and by the washing of the waters at the river’s mouth into the sea;
remove our impurities and the stain of false death and dishonor
from the other kami, the gods, the spirits of heaven and earth and ancestors;
and as at your first misogi, when Amaterasu-Omikami, Tsukiyomi-no-mikoto,
and Susa-no-o-no-mikoto, and many other kami were created by your purification,
so too may the purification of the kami and the gods and the spirits now
lead to the birth of many more kami and gods and spirits in turn.
Hail to you Hestia, who is not in her grave!
Dear sweet Hestia,
Lady of the Sacred Fire,
Goddess of the Hearth and Home,
Please hear my prayer.
I pray to You gentle Goddess,
Asking to bring Polytheist Pagans together to form a Community
Please lead us all to the warmth of Your fire
Whether we are from the East, North, West, or South,
Whether we are Seers, Spirit Workers, Shamans, Witches, Healers, Bards, or Wise Fools,
Whether we are out in the open or in the dark hidden.
We are all brothers and sisters regardless of which Gods and Goddesses we worship.
Teach us to love one another like family like how You love Your Divine family, and to keep the peace like how You do on Mount Olympus.
Also teach us to be tolerant of those who mock You and all the other Gods and Goddesses
Those who mock You and all the other Gods and Goddesses are truly ignorant
To quote another Deity: “Forgive them…for they don’t know what they do”
I also pray to You, Eldest of Olympians,
To let You know that You are not dead and buried.
You, who is always and forever eternal,
Lives in Mount Olympus with the other Olympian Gods,
Lives in hearth fires, wood burning stoves, and camp fires,
Lives in the warmth from family and friends,
Lives in my heart and other Pagans’ hearts.
We adore You today, tomorrow, and always.
In Your sacred name,
Amen!
Hail to you Dea Dia, who is not in her grave!
Salve Dea Dia!
Goddess of the Arval Priests
Goddess of the Light that Ripens the Harvest
Goddess of the Fertility of Plowed Fields
Dea Dia, with your crown of wheat ears
Adorned with white ribbons
Your priests offer You
Perfume and lighted candles
For You to bless the fields
With your heat and light
Forgive our impiety
Forgive our hubris
Hail to you Jupiter, who is not in his grave!
Salve Iuppiter Maximus Optimus!
Lord of the Sky
Who speaks to us with thunder and lightening.
Jupiter Pluvius
Bringer of the Rain
Ancient One, long worshipped.
We raise our cups of wine to you.
Salve Iuppiter Optimus Maximus
Jupiter Best and Greatest, Above all the Gods.
Salve Iuppiter Capitolinus
Jupiter of the Capitol, Balancer of the Government, People, and the Gods
Salve Iuppiter Lapis
Jupiter, Who presides over oaths
Salve Iuppiter Feretrius
Jupiter, the Hard Striker who carries away the spoils of war
Salve Iuppiter Invictus
Jupiter, the Unconquered
Salve Iuppiter Victor
Jupiter, the Victorious
Salve Iuppiter Stator
Jupiter, the Stayer of the Rout
Salve Iuppiter Pistor
Jupiter, the Baker
Salve Iuppiter Propugnator
Jupiter, the Defender and Champion
Salve Iuppiter Custos
Jupiter the Custodian and Keeper of the Laws
Salve Iuppiter Liber
Jupiter of the Creative Force
Salve Iuppiter Lucetius
Jupiter, the Bringer of the Light
Salve Iuppiter Caelestis
Jupiter of the Skies
Salve Iuppiter Tonas
Jupiter, the Thunderer
Salve Iuppiter Fulgur
Jupiter of the Lightening
Salve Iuppiter Elicius
Jupiter, the Bringer of Rain
Hail to you Nabu, who is not in his grave!
I honor You, God of Intelligence, Scribes, and Writing!
You captivate me with Your teachings that are so intriguing!
The way You categorize things You write is brilliant!
Your economy of style is extremely efficient.
You are able to capture the essence of moments in time.
Your writing makes use of letters and sounds in flawless rhyme.
Each letter You write makes a poetic sound.
All of Your phrases sing and dance around.
Your writing is alive and full of wonder!
Words have power and Yours leave tomes to ponder!
Magic and might are Yours to command in every word.
Each letter can become a mighty stroke of a sword.
Praise be to You, Great God Nabu! I honor You now and forever.
May my every thought and deed be pleasing to You, Magnificent God so clever!
Hail to you Poseidon, who is not in his grave!
Tiny feet and tiny hands,
One misty morning went down past the sand,
And found the waters waiting.
Sister and sister and laughter came,
To the two of them it was all just a game,
And who would have known you were in those waves.
They roared and they towered not a moment too late,
And one went under and met her fate,
And you poured your waters in her blood.
Twenty years later and the saline still calls,
With the sound of the foam and the cry of the gulls,
The saline now runs in her veins
Strange little creatures, these mortals are,
They laugh and mock and cry ‘myth’ from afar,
Until you drown them under the sea,
And make them never forget.
Hail to you Saturn, who is not in his grave!
Salve Saturnus Pater
Father Time, Who directs our days forward and past
Father Truth, Who reveals all things in time
Salve Saturnus Pater
Father of the Golden Age
Whose feet we bind for prosperity
Whose bindings we loosen during Saturnalia,
The time of gifts and good cheer
Salve Saturnus Pater
Father before Time
May we accept our past.
May we fight for our future.
May we live in our present.
Hail to you Amun, who is not in his grave!
Hail to you Amun,
Lord of Thebes and the Libyan land,
master of the atef crown and the horns of the ram.
You shine with the light of the sun,
and the earth rejoices at your appearance,
you who choose to conceal your face the rest of the time,
even from the venerable gods in heaven.
You are revered for your wisdom and your kingly power,
and the gods of every district come to you to arbitrate their disputes.
Yet your heart is kind,
and the poor man knows that his prayer will find your ear,
for you love what is right and just
and the most pious among men are called your sons,
no matter what their lot in life happens to be.
Hail to you Hephaestus, who is not in his grave!
Hail Hephaestus! I honor you, God of Fire, the Forge, and Metallurgy.
I would also include technology as one of Your influential spheres..
You are the patron of artisans, blacksmiths, sculptors, machinists, and engineers.
I praise You and Your work on every level and remain in awe of Your automations.
The genius of the mechanics of their gears is sublime mathematical ingenuity.
Your mechanical devices always display your ability to make perfect calculations.
You should be given the utmost intellectual glory in robotics and mechatronics.
You are a Divine Blacksmith, Mechanical Engineer, Roboticist, and Teacher of Physics.
I fall to my knees and look to you for inspiration in the art of mathematics.
While you inspire me in the application of technology, you teach me about the ethics.
By the use of an anvil, a hammer, and a pair of tongs, you create and inspire.
Through transmutative fire, you forge what others admire and desire.
My Lord, you are a God that I could work with for eternity.
Your workshop is a place where creativity shapes reality.
It is a place where Your vision comes alive.
It is a place where You are both God and Muse and ideas thrive!
Hail Hephaestus! You are a God of Endless Wonder and Glory!
Hail Hephaestus! You are a God of Inventions that continue to make history!
Hail to you Khnum, who is not in his grave!
I offer praises to you, Lord Khnum!
Blessed Water God of Inundation, please join me in this place of ceremony.
You are very dear to me.
Please partake of my hospitality and feel welcome.
Fertility is part of your power and your mystery.
The potter’s wheel is sacred to your realm.
You use your wheel to create life and beauty.
You can also cleanse and remove that which tends to overwhelm.
Ram Lord, I admire your potency.
You guard the waters of the underworld.
In addition, you protect the dead, Oh Powerful Lord.
I honor you, Fertile One of Divine Creativity!
Great Keeper of the Waters of the Nile, I am in awe of you!
Thank you, my Lord, for your blessings!
Thank you, Divine Potter, for coming into being!
I praise you, here and now, for everything you do!
Hail to you Athena, who is not in her grave!
Athena, mighty and grey-eyed goddess
Who boosts Man to mighty fame
Who guides the hands of gentle weavers
Who saves men as they go to war
Athena, how will I know of your treasures?
Will your wisdom come to me as water cascades down my face?
Will it come in the buzz of caffeinated brain cells?
Will it come through the words of strangers?
Let me know your glory
Let me know your truth
Let the world rejoice in the joys you give us, magnanimous goddess
Show us the beauty in the ugliness
Show us the joy in pain
And let us separate the lies from truth
Like chaff from grain
Hail to you Dagda, who is not in his grave!
An Dagda, Good God, Red Man of Wisdom,
The Old Man who murmurs and mutters when he’s heard
Hear now these words for you from those who adore you still
Why do we worship and make welcome the old man, the club bearer, the knower of secrets?
Not hard to say.
For the secrets of wind and earth, for the murmurs of hearts and needs, for the passions of mating and feasting, we thank thee.
Whether in war or in peace, you find answers.
Whether the sun is nine-months high or vanished in the long night, you find the way.
Whether you strike down nine with your club, or restore nine to life with the other end, wisdom is in your actions.
Bright be your eyes, bright be your words, bright be your thoughts; sung and praised and ever told by we who remember you, love you, and honor you still.
Hail to you Xevioso, who is not in his grave!
The blue skies are your rolling plains
your footsteps kick up the dust
spinning water into rains and clouds
The beat-feet dance the ground
Crack our ears, this mighty shout
Dry grains, their need whetted by your touch
Curl and push aside the damp soil
Green and yellow fingers,
such seed that nourishes
the people, from your voice
your moisture sustains
our spirits’ bodies
Praise his bellowing voice,
Praise his rain, this planet’s semen
Praise for this darkened sky,
Beneath the shadow of his feet
We yet live again.
Hail to you Ishtar, who is not in her grave!
Ishtar, who is also called Inanna and Astarte
Who has endless names unknown or unspoken
Who is also called Queen of Heaven and Queen of the Earth
and Mistress of All the Universe
As the evening and morning star
You shine on us as the sun is setting
Your light carries us through the night and through our darkest hours
You shine on us when the sun is rising
Your light adding to that of the day and to our brightest hours.
With a crown of stars, of gemstones, of a million leaves, petals, and horns
You rule over all the realms
And it is an honor, indeed, to be ruled by you.
You decorate your breast with stars
with lapis, agate, and pearls the color of the brightest rainbows
But it is you who give jewels and the cosmos their luster
For even naked and alone and hung up on a meat hook in the underworld
You are still the most treasured beauty of both heaven and of earth.
For ages unto ages, poets have given their words to you
But one poem is not enough
Nine prayers are not enough
50,000 words are not enough
Seven epics are not enough
To contain your glory
And so shine on, glorious Queen, mistress, and Goddess.
May your brightness never fade
And may we always appreciate the bright blessings and dark lessons you bestow upon us all.
Hail to you Lucifer, who is not in his grave!
Thou art not fallen, O son of Morning
Thou has not tasted death at any time.
It is you who bring joy to the hearts of men
Giving hope to the hopeless, who trust in you.
In the evening too, you are there -
We set our tables for you in the West.
At the setting of the Sun, your light is a boon;
For those that wander at vespertide.
Thou art not fallen, O sun of Morning,
Neither hast thou tasted death at any time.
Let us pause for a moment to remember all the gods and goddesses for whom we could get no poetry. They, too, deserve to be honored.
Hail to you Ops, who is not in her grave!
We adore Ops, Goddess of Abundance
We adore Ops, the Sower
We adore Ops, the Planter
We adore Ops, the Bringer of Help
We adore Ops, the Goddess of the Sabines
We adore Ops, Holding the Ears of Wheat
We adore Ops, Sitting on the Throne of Plenty
We adore Ops, the Consort of Saturnus
We adore Ops, the Protector of the Fertile Land
Hail to you Di Penates, who are not in their graves!
Hail the Keepers of the Pantry
We offer our food to You!
Often overlooked, You keep us fed.
May You bless soup kitchens
May You bless food banks
May You bless stores of the hungry ones
Salvete Di Penates!
May we offer from our plenty
In gratitude for a full stomach
Hail to you Leshy, who is not in his grave!
O Leshy of the darkened wood,
with moss for your beard and skin like the whorled bark of trees
and a club so heavy none other can lift it.
As you walk by silence descends like the shroud of Zorya Vechernyaya
and all the beasts and birds bow their head in reverence for you, their lord.
No man of old would fell a tall tree to build his home without first making offerings to you,
for all that grows from the soil and runs wild beneath the heavens is under your protection.
As the rustling breeze
and the song of the passing river
and the sight of deer resting in the shade of an ancient copse
are pleasing to you, I pray that these words are too
and that you and your beloved family are never forgot.
Hail to you Apollo, who is not in his grave!
Phoebus Apollo
Bringer of Light
Encourager of the Muses
Let us drink the waters of Castalia
Inspire us in our praises,
Inspire us in our offerings
Inspire us in our readings
Bright Apollo,
Bringer of Light.
Apollo, Light Arrow
Apollo, Bard Melodious
Apollo, Evil Averter
Apollo, Bow Carrier
Apollo, Watcher of Heaven,
Apollo, Shooter of Midges
We sing your praises
Forgive our impiety
Forgive our hubris.
Bright Apollo,
Bringer of Light.
Phoebus Apollo, Thank you for your bardic inspiration.
Hail and Farewell!
Hail to you Axomamma, who is not in her grave!
Many eyes seeing all,
Yet under the earth,
Your arms rise,
Adoring Inti’s embrace.
Kon and Illapa feed you,
Your crown is purple,
White, and golden;
More gold than Cuzco
For you sustain king
And merchant, slave
And priest forever.
Hail to you Eostre, who is not in her grave!
Lady of new beginnings,
Goddess of all that is fecund,
We honor you!
Renew the world with the birth of grasses, leaves, and blossoms!
You quicken earth’s creatures;
Wearing your gown of dawn blue, pink, and gold;
your hair woven with the new buds.
You fly upon the wind and light upon the world!
Return to us so that new life may reclaim the land.
We worship you now and forever!
Shining, you are glowing with the light of springtime.
You sparkle like dew, with purity, youth, and beauty.
You frolic early in the morning with the young maidens
dressed in white, in a newly green world.
We welcome you with the Holy dawn.
Hail Eostre!
Hail to you Freya, who is not in her grave!
I sail forth and face the sea,
a safe haven behind and the horizon before me.
I face the vastness, the wide open ocean,
its depth unknown, its mood uncertain.
I know I may be lost, I know I may not return;
yet face the sea I must,
reap the wind I have to.
I sail forth through the waves,
the hills of the pasture of the sea horse:
the wind is their shepherd and he commands them to rise.
Thus they grow, the towering heights of wet Jord,
and I dwarf in a violent siege of water,
unable to steer, unable to flee.
I stand in fearful awe before the darkening sky,
Ymir’s skull in black convulsion,
and Aegir’s daughters invade the deck.
The ship is rocked, the sails torn,
and I lose hope of evading Ran’s net.
Yet as the waves drag me I see a light,
a bright star in the field of clouds.
It is Mardöll, radiant Freya of the sea,
and I find hope again,
my hands firm, my sight cleared.
The ship is rocked, but I steer;
wet mountains rise, but I climb them.
I sail forth and face the sea,
a safe haven behind and the horizon before me.
I know I may be lost, I know I may not return,
yet face it I must and pray to Njord’s daughter to keep me safe.
Hail to you Giltine, who is not in her grave!
I praise you, Giltine, Goddess of Death and Healing.
Your knowledge of medicine is profound and inspiring!
Doctors and nurses perform Your sacred art.
I am in awe of Your power and kneel with reverence in my heart.
The owl is Your bird, and it is very cunning and wise.
Not only is it silent in flight, but it can advise.
It knows when You are near.
Both You and Your owl are dear.
In addition to Your owl, You have two white hounds.
The hounds accompany You into Your sacred grounds.
You and Your hounds can unleash feelings of Holy Terror.
I embrace You, Goddess Giltine, all of You, now and forever.
Hail to you Anath, who is not in her grave!
I sing of Anath, the daughter of Ptah and mistress of the high heavens,
the war-loving goddess who delights in the cries of wounded men,
and the sounds of bones crunching beneath the wheels of her lion-drawn chariot.
She is a proud goddess who will accept the yoke of no man as her husband,
though many have come courting,
for she has a beauty second only to Hathor’s.
Seth alone does she consent to be with,
for he makes no demands upon her
and they run free in the desert,
hunting wild creatures by moonlight.
Though she came from a distant land,
the gods of Egypt welcomed her into their midst,
for she is a mighty slayer of monsters, and a fearsome defender of Ma’at.
When Ba’al, her brother, was overcome by Mot and Yamm,
it was she who came to his aid,
Anath who trampled the foe and crushed their throats with her bare hands.
Hail to you Medeina, who is not in her grave!
Hail Medeina! Goddess of the Forest, Trees, and Animals, I honor you!
You protect the forest from harm and teach natural virtue.
It is through Your wisdom that one can learn proper forest etiquette.
You ensure a proper sanctuary for plants and animals in an environment so exquisite.
Biodiversity and ecology are part of Your domain.
You teach that an attitude of entitlement cannot be allowed to remain.
In this biologically diverse world, all must learn to share.
We, as humans, must do our part to show You we care.
You can be like the hare or the wolf. Both are sacred to You.
You teach there is a proper time for everything from solemn events to playing in the dew.
There is a time to be gentle or quick like the hare.
Then, there are the times of the wolf, which may or may not be fair.
Blessed is the wisdom that You offer those who truly seek it.
I honor You, Great Goddess, and am willing to follow you where you see fit.
Hail to you Cardea, who is not in her grave!
Salve Cardea!
Humble Keeper of Door Hinges
Powerful Guardian of Family Life
Humble Guardian of Newborn Children
Powerful Battler of Vampires
Salve Cardea!
May we always remember your power.
May we always be grateful for your protection.
Hail to you Janus, who is not in his grave!
Janus Bifrons
Two-faced God
You look both ways
Janus Pater
Keeper of Doors
Protect us
Janus Patulcius
Opener of Gates
Allow our prayers pass to the Gods
Janus Clusivius
Closer of Doors
Janus, God of Endings
We thank You!
Hail and Farewell!
Salve Ianus Pater
Father Janus, Keeper of Dies Pater’s Door
Salve Ianus Patulcius
Janus, the Opener of Doors, the first prayer is for You, God of Beginnings.
Salve Ianus Clusivus
Janus, Closer of Doors, the last prayer is for You, God of Endings.
Hail to you Dionysos, who is not in his grave!
Dionysos, I sing, whose head is twined with ivy
and grapes in ripe bunches that tumble to his gentle shoulders,
clad in their fawn-skin cloak.
Swift-moving God, racing down the side of Olympos,
or through the wooded coverts of the Nysan plane,
attended by goat-footed Satyrs, and the lovely Nymphs,
giving out the call, “Euoi!”
All-conquering, fierce-eyed One,
who wields his thyrsos like a fiery brand,
striking with madness those who offend him.
Mystery discovered through our bodies,
in dancing round bon-fires till exhaustion overtakes us,
and the touching of
trembling flesh against trembling flesh
underneath the all-seeing moon.
I suppose there are older Gods, and stronger –
but there has never been a God dearer to my heart
than the son of Semele and Zeus who reigns in Heaven!
Hail to you Hermes, who is not in his grave!
Messenger, oh Messenger
Oh fast-footed God
Hermes, dear Hermes
What news have you brought?
Whose glory shall I know?
Whose death shall I grieve?
Hermes, dear Hermes
What news have you brought?
Hail to you Anubis, who is not in his grave!
Dua Anpu, Dua Anpu!
Showing our Dead the good Ways home
Dua Anpu, Dua Anpu!
Guiding our Dead with care and grace
Oh holy Neter, Guide of Guides
With whom all of our Dead may find
Across the Nile and in Their time
The good roads that go home
Dua Anpu, Dua Anpu!
Showing our Dead the good Ways home
Dua Anpu, Dua Anpu!
Guiding our Dead with care and grace
You Who show us to the Hall
Where Heart and Feather balance all
And Ammut waits with tooth and claw
Beyond the Gods await
Dua Anpu, Dua Anpu!
Showing our Dead the good Ways home
Dua Anpu, Dua Anpu!
Guiding our Dead with care and grace
Dua Anpu, Dua Anpu!
The Dead are safe before Your gaze
Dua Anpu, Dua Anpu
Dua, Opener of Ways!
Praise to Anpu
You sit upon the Tombs
On the walls and in the scrolls
Guardian
Watcher
God
You weigh the ib
You guide the ba
You teach the ka
Guide
Teacher
God
You bless the priest
You bless the augur
You bless the walkers
Gnosis
Mentor
God
Bless You Anubis
Bless You Yinepu
Bless You Anpu
Hail to you Odin, who is not in his grave!
You breathed life into me
You taught me to stand strong
You taught me to be patient
You taught me compassion and discernment
You gave me a path to walk
You taught me knowledge through pain
You taught me holiness in silence
You taught me openness to instruction
You taught me to embrace the Runes
You blessed me
You taught me my purpose
You taught me magic
You taught me to claim myself
You taught me to honor my Ancestors
May I never say
“I was never blessed!”
May I never say
“You are not with me!”
May I never say
“I do not know you!”
For all the pain
For all the lessons
For all the failures
For all the successes
You have always been there
Even if I had not the eyes to see You
Or the ears to hear Your Voice
Hail to You, Allfather!
Hail to you Mithra, who is not in his grave!
O Lord, I cannot accept any crown
Except the justness of your Law.
You who were born of earth,
Bind all under your edicts,
The edicts which you laid from old,
To govern humanity in common.
You are lord of the wide pastures,
Watching lofty, and everlasting,
Over men and cattle both.
Your name is Holy, your word Truth.
At your presence shield and drum,
Beat in accord at your might.
With timbrel your praises are raised.
Like the light of the stars at night,
And like the light of the Sun itself,
Your mercy is from age to age,
Requisite and indispensable to good souls.
To those who cannot pass over,
The Bridge of that undiscovered territory,
You judge justly and in secret.
Eternal friend of humanity,
Not content to stay in the East,
Your message spread throughout the world.
In secret caves were you adored,
By those who adored country and civilization.
Your names and epithets were painted in Heaven,
Remembering the covenant made before time.
Then you hunted the Bull, now the Great Fish.
Though the dining halls are now empty,
Great is your banquet in all eternity.
Hail to you Nergal, who is not in his grave!
Let my praise travel straight and true
To the Lord of the Great City
To the heart of the Black Sun
To the Lord of Sunset
To Nergal, the Enlil of the nether world.
Your name lets loose awe and fear.
You fall on the land bringing terror in your wake.
Lord of the battle Net’
Ruler of the Seven
The plague weapon that devours like a dragon.
You alone have the power to carry off and bring back…
I, the scribe to your Queen implore you, fierce god of the Great City
To hear my words and not to loose the arrow Mows-down-a-myriad.
To listen to the voice of respect and not use the mace Fifty-toothed-storm.
You are the hero who comes down from the Great Mountain, riding No-resisting-this-storm..
Warrior with head held high, respected lord, son who rises up to protect his father.
Nergal, angry sea, inspiring fearsome terror, whom no one knows how to confront, youth whose advance is a hurricane and a flood battering the lands.
Nergal, dragon covered with gore, drinking the blood of living creatures..
May my warning travel straight and true
To those who bury the gods..
Who believe that they are your match and free
God of War look away from them.
In the name of my Mistress.
Please stay your hand.
Hail to you Robigius, who is not in his grave!
We respect Robigius of Mildew and Rust
We respect the Red God
We respect the Rust-colored One
We respect the God who kills unhealthy plants
We respect the God who keeps our grains evolving
Hail to you Laverna, who is not in her grave!
I praise Laverna, the Mother of Thieves,
the Crafty Taker and Unwanted Intruder.
Hers is the virtue of stealing,
which feeds the hungry and saves the poor;
Hers is the art of stealth,
the tool of shadowy justice.
I pray to You, Laverna,
and ask You to keep me safe and true:
may my hand be unseen and my steps unheard;
may my mind know right from wrong and need from greed.
If I fail, may You be kind and aid me as I flee;
If I succeed, may You take the offerings given with my left hand.
For I praise You, Laverna, the Furtive Lady,
and hope You will be with me.
Hail to you Hekate, who is not in her grave!
O my Lady
if I have ever poured red wine
ever given you dark wine and honey
milk and honey
bread and garlic cloves
at three way crossroads on New Moon night
hear my hymn
do not spit out my prayer
O my Lady, You are not so very distant
but I am so small
my mind my soul too small for You
and when I tried to horse You
late that night
I tried to swallow the Moon
to swallow the burning Stars
the whole of grey Night
to breathe the Aether the Gods breathe only
the Oceans filled with bitter salt and all of
Chthon deep and mineral
filled with dead men’s bones
turned to stained dirt
turned to lost memories
and my lips spoke strange words
riddles of matters too high
and like a child
a small child
my nose bled and would not stop and
still You poured into me
a river
into a thimble till I fled
till I had to flee
O my Lady
I do not regret our closer contact
my hubris holy and dark
You hinted
or only I guessed
what You want
in enigmas and
so darkly
I do not understand
not comprehend that night
that reflected
in the quaint and faded mirror of all of me
O my Lady
I who am too small to hold
the merest flake of Your Power
I fear I am too small to do
the smallest flake of Your Will
And I rejoice and I pray
Hekate
Whose womb is armored in serpent scales
Surrounded by ghosts and ravenous Spirits
Who grasp the Key to All and
are Mistress of the Magical Quintessence
You my Tender and Terrible
One
O my Lady
Source and End of All
Hekate Soteira
World Tree and
Anima Mundi
I pray You
enlarge me
O my Lady
Hail to you Rashap, who is not in his grave!
Praise to Rashap:
I kiss the ground of His soul.
I give praise before His glorious face
so that I may gain His boon.
You heal my limbs
and You open my eyes
in the sight of Your face.
O Rashap, may the Gods watch over You;
may They bless You with health and wellbeing.
May They strengthen You for a thousand days
and for ten thousand years
unto eternity.
Hail to you Artemis, who is not in her grave!
How odd: that I thought of you each time
I breathed the scent of juniper,
But didn’t know that it was your holy tree,
Until I came across that reference entirely by accident.
Walking through the forest on a summer’s eve,
I can see the tears of golden resin
On the outstretched branches (reaching to embrace me),
Tears beyond price from the wood that weeps for your return.
Artemis Kedreatis, Artemis Hymnia,
There once was a temple at Orkhomenos
–No more than ruins now–
Which I may never see; they kept your image in the crook
Of a tree there, and under that tree, with its red-gold berries,
Your priestess might have sat, on a summer eve
Not too different from this one,
Smelling that sweet perfume that I smell now.
I am no virgin, nor have been for many years,
And likewise my time of childbirth is long over.
Even so, forgive me if, once in a while,
I linger by the juniper tree,
Breathing in that scent,
And imagine myself joyously in service to you.
Hail to you Viracocha, who is not in their grave!
Viracocha, Lord of the Universe!
Whether male or female,
at any rate commander of heat and reproduction,
being one who,
even with His spittle, can work sorcery,
Where art Thou?
Would that Thou wert not hidden from this son of Thine!
He may be above;
He may be below;
or, perchance, abroad in space.
Where is his mighty judgment-seat?
Hear me!
He may be spread abroad among the upper waters;
or, among the lower waters and their sands
He may be dwelling.
Creator of the world,
Creator of man,
great among my ancestors,
before Thee my eyes fail me,
though I long to see Thee;
for, seeing Thee,
knowing Thee,
learning from Thee,
understanding Thee,
I shall be seen by Thee,
and Thou wilt know me.
The Sun–the Moon;
The Day–the Night;
Summer–Winter;
not in vain,
in orderly succession,
do they march to their destined place,
to their goal.
They arrive
wherever
Thy royal staff
Thou bearest.
Oh! Harken to me,
listen to me,
let it not befall
that I grow weary
and die.
Hail to you Magni, who is not in his grave!
Magni Thorsson, giant-strong
Rock-crusher, father’s guard.
Jarnsaxa’s bairn hefted Hrugnir,
Three days dead from Hlorridi’s hand,
From off Thor’s neck. In his time of need
Son succored sire, life given life
From father to son, son to father.
Ever mighty, Thor’s son, Magni!
Strong in sinew, shield and sword,
He will rule after Ragnarok
Gods reborn in glory renewed.
Hail to you Pan, who is not in his grave!
I’ve heard of a child,
a son of Hermes,
the goat-boy of the Luck Giver.
His nurse found Him too ugly,
His father found Him too cute
and all the Gods loved Him.
What’s that sound?
What’s that noise?
What’s that hiding in the bushes?
A crafty one, true son of the Trickster,
Pan fashioned His own instrument.
Blow His flute, will you?
Life isn’t worth living without merriment
and Pan loves a good song and dance.
What’s that sound?
What’s that noise?
What’s that hiding in the bushes?
Ruler of high lands,
friend of flocks and shepherds alike,
He dwells up on the hills and mountain tops.
Just don’t mind Him at noon,
when He enjoys His rest,
unless you want to feel His kick.
What’s that sound?
What’s that noise?
What’s that hiding in the bushes?
If you say He’s a drunkard teaser, I say you’re a fool!
For panic strikes all, even the greatest army,
and great as they were, the Persians still fell
when Pan used His skills at Marathon.
What’s that sound?
What’s that noise?
What’s that hiding in the bushes?
Great You are, Hard-Footed God,
And blessed are Your friends!
For life isn’t worth living without joy
and joy cannot thrive without pleasure.
Great You are, Lord of Smiles and Laughter!
What’s that sound?
What’s that noise?
What’s that hiding in the bushes?
Bless us, Goat God,
and accept our offerings!
Join us in our feast,
join us in our dance!
We give our merry making
and share our joy with You!
What’s that sound?
What’s that noise?
Maybe we should get the hell out of here!
Hail to you Ptah, who is not in his grave!
Praises to you Ptah, the Great God,
the First One who stands upon the hill of creation,
whose mighty thoughts give order to the world,
whose lips speak forth words of power,
shaping the destinies of all living things.
What work of yours should I praise first?
Shall I sing of the green corn growing in the fields,
or the radiant lotus floating on the Nile water:
– Ptah did this!
Or perhaps my song should tell of the twin kites,
resting in the shade of the persea tree:
– Ptah did this!
Maybe I should dwell on the beauty of the dancing girl,
her full breasts and slim ankles and skin the color of the soil after inundation:
– Ptah did this!
No matter what great marvel a man could think of to praise,
greater things still lie in the mind of Ptah,
for he is the creator of all that is, and was, and shall become.
Great is Ptah, great, great and very great is his Majesty!
Hail to you Montu, who is not in his grave!
Hail to you Montu, lord of war
hawk-headed, lion-bodied, raging like a bull.
Ferocious one who makes his dwelling in Thebes,
Unconquered smiter of the foe,
Radiant in your power and terrible in your manifestations.
Your bread is the bones of the enemy,
your wine the blood spilled out in battle.
You come like a bolt of lightning, striking the earth,
sowing fear among the ranks of the Nine-bow people.
Your roar causes their arms to go limp,
your teeth-gnashing is echoed in the sound of their shields falling to the ground
and their sandals slapping the earth as they run off like scared little children.
You pounce into the press of fighting bodies
and tear through armor with your sharp claws.
Their swords break and are useless.
Their wails are music to your ears.
Their death cries bring great gladness to your heart.
You crush their throats and devour their flesh,
and when thousands lay dead before you,
you perform the dance of victory upon their corpses.
You are invincible, and even the great gods of the Ennead
tremble when you come before them,
bathed in blood and wearing the trangressor’s gore as your head-dress.
Hail to you, Montu, defender of the just,
upholder of the balance, he who keeps the precious land safe from invaders.
This you do for the King of Upper and Lower Egypt,
so that it may rightly be said that the power of Montu lies in his heart
and all men fear his might.
And he in return recites your blessings,
builds many fine temples to honor you,
and offers sumptuous sacrifices to you on your solemn feast days.
Hail to you Marvel Loki, who is not in his grave!
We yearn from the darkness of memory With the aetherial company of others forgotten Wisps of energy pushing and pulling Wyrd of Words, Phrases, Epithets, Wanting nothing more than recognition, Worship, Sacrifice, even if it is merely Whispered into the ear of a Writer, an Artist, a Colorist, a Penciler.
Ignition, Inspiration, Integration Into an existing world of Idols, those whose tales Inform and excite, Incite young and old to Intone the names forgotten.
Alive! Awareness seeded into a culture, Anewed cultus, thirsty for each new Adaptation of stories so mangled, Addled by monks, Amorphous oral interpretations Altered moral allegories Antihero becomes villain Amended for a new age (And to sell more comic books.)
Tales, even brand new ones Trigger our collective consciousness To recall that name That Other mien, Then begin a quest Take a cultural image, face, name Trace back to its roots Thirst for Mimir’s Well The truest meaning of “source material”.Ignition, Inspiration, Integration Into an existing world of Idols, those whose tales Inform and excite, Incite young and old to Intone the names forgotten.
Inform a new generation Induct a new cultus Introduce Old Gods Imminent Gods.
My God is Merely Amused by a Movie or Graphic Novel, not Insulted. Muses work in the Milleu they know best. Monks write tomes, Motion Picture People Make Scripts, Super Heroes. Modern tomes hold new bridges to old Mythologies waiting to be found.
All Hail the Father of Many Faces! All Hail the God of Modernity! All Hail The Jotun Guide that Shows Man The Way to Yggdrasil!
All Hail the Comic Book Villain who Laughs At His Own Depiction! All Hail the God Bigger Than Any One Tale Can Hold! All Hail Marvel Loki! All Hail Marvel Loki! Hail Loki! Hail Loki!
Hail to you Loki, who is not in his grave!
O Son of Leafy Isle
and Ever-Biting Sky
I pray You hear this little prayer
Where ‘ere You may reside
I pray You know Your Holy Name
Rests on lips of me and mine;
That always is there a place
When ‘ere You come to dine
I pray You know that somewhere
Some will call You friend
That my children know Your deeds
And know where ‘ere You’ve been
I pray that You can see
The offerings left outside
That some carry love for You
A love we will not hide
I pray that You can hear
The songs that we sing
In praise of You, O Flaming Hair
In our small gatherings
I pray that You can feel, Loki
The love and trust and pride
For counting You among our Gods
In You, our prayers abide
Hail unto the Fiery One
To Hag and Aesir Bride
Hail unto Your Beloved Kin
Your family and Your lines
Hail to You Ever-Changing
To all Your blessings known
To Wyrd that You have made with us
To Wyrd that will be wove
My Ancestors have spoke Your Name
My heart knows but this:
My kith and kin are blessed by You
Because You do exist
Please hear this prayer I pray, Loki
Trickster, Fire, and Friend
We shall hail and praise Your Name
Beyond Yggdrasil’s End
Hail to you Aphrodite, who is not in her grave!
You fine and golden goddess of life’s love
Who brings men and women down to their knees
You send your messages upon a dove
Who with gentle touch she captures and frees
Your gifts are worth far more than shining gold
A tragedy where young lovers lose life
comedy where love’s root does take hold
That never ending source of human strife
Love, life’s great treasure, be timid or bold
Aphrodite holds the ring and the knife
Hail to you Mars, who is not in his grave!
Mars Pater,
We dance with You
Dance with the trumpets of war,
Dance waving the swords of battle,
Dance waving the wreaths of victory,
Dance with the sorrow of defeat,
We dance with You,
Mars Pater.
Hail to you Uni, who is not in her grave!
Salve Uni, Supreme Goddess of the Etruscans!
Salve Uni, Wife and Sister of Tinia!
Salve Uni of the Sacred Triad of Tinia, Uni, and Menrva!
Goddess Who holds her people’s memory
May You forgive our forgetfulness
We ask that You remember us, as We will remember You.
May our love be a never-ending circle
Hail to you Susanoo, who is not in his grave!
Hear now! Attend to these words!
Know a great god of great strength,
a mighty one worthy of praise,
a worthy one from the land of the rising sun!
To Susanoo I give these words
and hope He finds them pleasing,
my spoken drop of devotion
to His watery ocean of divinity.
I praise the offspring of Izanagi,
the brother of Amaterasu
and sibling of Tsukuyomi,
the kinsman of sun and moon.
I praise the Atoning One,
Susanoo, the Hider of the Sun
and Disturbed of Heaven,
the banished god who found Himself.
I praise the divine hero,
the mighty Susanoo, the mighty ocean,
the Slayer of Yamata and Saviour of Izumo,
the Wielder of Grass Cutting Sword.
I praise the Lord of the Gathering Clouds from Heaven,
Susanoo, the Bringer of Rain and Grain,
the Sword-Giving Reconciler,
the heroic hand of imperial regalia.
I praise You, Susanoo of the Sea Plain,
and hope You hear my prayer:
may I be reverent in words and pious in deeds;
may my devotion be true and Your gaze kind.
Hail to you Veles, who is not in his grave!
I first heard the call of Veles
In a field near the woods
Knowing that my Ancestors
Drove cattle and Sheep
And that Veles is Lord of these things
I followed Veles to the Underworld
And hung a skull on my Shrine
I found a spiritual sister
And we called Veles! Veles!
To bring us magic and Divination
I bought a black hat in my travels
The one time I went to see my sister
The one time we met flesh to flesh
Without knowing why I sent it to her later
And soon after learned she had died
Veles I will always find you watching
You are not dead
For I still see my sister
In my memories, and in the foggy morning
And I know she walks with you
Veles! Veles!, I call again
Bless the cattle of me and my kinsmen
Bring me the riches of the Underworld
Magic and Divination
And when I to die
I will find you there
And we all shall live
Hail to you Bragi, who is not in his grave!
In the beginning there was…
A bard named Bragi, son of Boddi,
son of an unnamed woman,
and he lived to a great age
with a long white beard.
He praised great kings
and received gifts from them.
He told stories of the gods to mortals.
His poetry was so startling,
so innovative,
so touched by genius,
that other poets said he must be a god himself.
And,
He was.
In the beginning there was…
A bard named Bragi, son of Odin,
son of an unnamed goddess,
unmatched in poetic gifts.
He was (and is) the master of kennings,
the god whose tongue is carved with runes,
the long-bearded lord.
He courted sweet Idunn and lived with her in love.
Ever conciliatory, he brought feuding gods together.
Ever the teacher, he taught mortals their history,
their language, their poetry,
their proper courtesy to gods and men.
In the beginning there was…
A bard named Bragi, son of Odin,
son of Gunnlöd, the giantess.
He was sired through stealth, trickery, and craft,
his soul sucked from the mead of poetry,
poetry the blood in his veins,
song the marrow of his bones.
Kvasir he was, and others wise and great
whose names are lost to us.
Their words honey and fire,
their gifts of song and passion.
In the beginning there was…
A story of Bragi.
And another,
and another.
The story is the story.
The listener brings to it what she will.
Bragi will tell his story, over and over,
in a thousand thousand variations,
for those with ears to hear.
Hail to you Lugh, who is not in his grave!
Many are the great heroes of old,
mighty kings who sailed the far seas,
men of courage who spilt the blood of terrible beasts,
and those brave souls who gave up their lives to make our land free;
but none are as deserving of honor as Lugh,
long-handed and lovely faced lord of the fair ones,
whose valorous deeds are the favorite subject
of divinely inspired poets and old women with babes upon the knee.
His eyes, they say, are fierce like the fire that burns
an enemy’s strong walls down to the ground,
and his hair is the color of the brown food of bees
or the radiant sun at mid-day.
None could stand for long against him in a fight,
so skilled in war-making is he,
and the broad-bosomed earth has never seen the man
who could match wits with this cunning fellow.
Smith-knowledge is his, and the working of magic charms.
He knows the language of wild beasts,
when to plough, sow and reap the fields,
and how to woo a beautiful maiden,
chaste and pure as the new-fallen snow.
So when the days are stretched out,
the heat bears down upon us,
and the golden corn is ready to harvest,
remember this god among men
and keep his ancient festival in the ancestral fashion,
with songs and foot-races and blazing bonfires
so that Lugh’s good-will will be ours for another year to come.
Hail to you Petbe, who is not in his grave!
Mighty god and Soul of the Sky,
You who uphold the balance of Ma’at
When all seems to have been broken.
Your lordly wrath rains from the sky,
Upon wrongdoers and those who abet wrong.
Even when the worship of the gods
Even the gods of Heliopolis
Became overshadowed by the followers of the Nazarean,
Those who fused their beliefs preserved your name.
“Thundering Power”, your name is still used,
And your justice, like thunder, spans the sky.
May you be greatly praised by those whom you have graced,
And may your goodness and wrath be praised,
Amongst all gods and humanity for millions of years.
Hail to you Venus, who is not in her grave!
We invite the presence of our beloved lady Venus, for whom our longing is great, Who is known by many names and flames within our hearts; we ask the honor of Your presence here with us in this sacred, sensual space. We inspire love and creativity within one another through the offerings we make to our Lady, and through the pleasure and beauty we will share.
Hail to you Eir, who is not in her grave!
Thank you for being a patron of the overworked and underpaid,
who go above and beyond to heal the sick and wounded;
of the paramedics and EMTs,
of those who drive the ambulance and those who clear the way,
those who work the nightshift on no sleep,
Those who swab the halls and change the bedpans,
Who monitor the heartbeats and congested lungs,
Who stare down the microbe and scrutinize the x-rays.
Lady Eir, you cannot save us from ourselves.
But you help us find healing when we need it
And help us learn to let go, when healing is not enough.
You are mercy and pragmatism, self-control and love,
The one who patches up the hurts, with a brisk, “Don’t do that again!”
Who sees our foolishness, but with a smile and shake of the head,
Because where there are humans, there are scraped knees
And bruised egos, and sore throats, and hangovers.
And you love us in all our folly.
How can I not love you!
Hail to you Horus, who is not in his grave!
I sing the youthful god born on the river’s edge,
with his finger held up to his lips and lotus flowers for his bed.
Harpokrates, the son of Isis, the golden child and lovely,
head heavy with the double crown though his eyes are never unhappy.
He delights in the dancing nymphs and the soothing sounds of the sistrum,
and his laughter makes the plump grapes swell, richly rewarding those who pick them.
On a clear day you can see him soaring through the heavens,
a noble hawk with the sun’s light in his broad wings.
He is the source of all that is good and true in the world,
and perches on the shoulder of just men and kings.
He fought a vicious battle with his uncle for Egypt’s throne,
and would have lost had the contest been decided by strength alone.
But Harpokrates is a wise god and cunning beyond measure,
and through clever tricks and eloquent speech,
he persuaded the divine judges to give him the treasure.
Had another been awarded the prize,
violent Seth’s enmity would have continued to this day,
but Harpokrates knows well how to win friends to his side,
and so the Red One is among the chief defenders of the boy-king whose heart is gay.
So lift up your voice as we honor Egypt’s rightful ruler,
Harpokrates the life-giver who makes all things seem newer.
Hail to you Demeter, who is not in her grave!
I kneel in the oven of the sunlight,
Beating down on my back like a whip.
My hands would never win any beauty pageants–
Nails broken and caked with rich soil,
They sneeringly proclaim my low interests.
I dig deep, nesting the seedling into the hole I’ve created,
Then pack the dirt around it, gentle as a lover.
There aren’t many weeds this early in the season;
Nonetheless, I pinch and I pluck, nagging at the
Little green things growing where they don’t belong.
All around me, I can see tiny emerald shoots starting to
Peep up out of the soil:
Onions, corn, garlic and tomatoes,
Broccoli, radishes, beets, peppers.
There are flowers on the raspberry vines and the strawberries.
At an age and circumstance beyond bringing forth children from my womb,
Still I create life.
Sweat trickles into my eyes and I wipe it away absently,
Not realizing until hours later that there’s a black streak smeared
Across my brow.
There is nothing in my mind but
Soil
Seeds
Water,
And although sometimes I don’t know it,
With every breath I sing your name.
Hail to you Dagon, who is not in his grave!
Your hand, like a cloud bearing rain,
Alights upon field and mind alike,
Sowing in them like grains of seed,
The foundations of civilized life.
In your temple, the House of the Star,
You reign supreme and store up goods,
Which are distributed to all in time.
Hail to you Cupid, who is not in his grave!
Sacred youth, herald of change and transformation,
to you we raise our prayer.
Let our devotion rise like incense;
fill us with the heady spice of your presence.
Winged glory, you toy with our affections
as a cat stalks his mouse.
And that pounce, that sweet, tortuous touch
is our longing.
Hail to many gods, who are not in their graves!
Loki my God, my love, i honor you, i adore you, i want you. You are my passion -i bow before you, serve you & crave you. Thank you for being in my life. Wherever, whenever you are spoken of harshly, know that i love you, wherever and whenever you are excluded- know you forever have a home in me. I love you my God with every drop of blood i have, maddeningly so! You are the hands that strum the tunes of my heartbeat. Loki i love you. Allfather thank you for the gifts youve given me, i shall continue to love and honor you forever, i love you Allfather Odin. Beautiful Queen thank you for prayers answered, i shall continue to honor & love you forever, Hail Holy Freya! All the Gods so maligned- know that you are not forgotten- we are here shouting cries of joy for you still, always & forever! A special thanks from me to Pan, thanks for making yourself known all those years ago-i still enjoy your wild grins. Yemaya & her cockroaches on that ritual evening, Frey, i love you & your greatest gift to me has been the lesson of: be careful what you ask for, you just might get it!
Hail to the gods of Rome, who are not in their graves!
Salvete Iuppiter Capitolinus, Quirinus,et Marmar Pater
Jupiter, Quirinus, and Mars,
Who watched over the people’s first steps to self-government
Salvete Iuppiter Optimus Maximus, Juno Regina et Minerva Augusta
Jupiter Best and Greatest, Queen Juno and Minerva,
May the people govern themselves well under your watchful eyes.
Salvete Capitoline Trio, watching over all things Roman.
Iuppiter Maximus Optimus, Jupiter, Best and Brightest.
Juno, in all Her Aspects
Stern Minerva, Who guides scientists and artisans.
Salvete Ceres Mater, Liber Pater, et Libera Mater
Ceres, Liber, and Libera,
May the rights of the poor and oppressed be protected.
Salve Iuppiter Optimus Maximus
Jupiter Best and Greatest, Above all the Gods.
Salve Iuno Regina
Queen Juno, Protector and Counselor of Government
Salve Neptunus Pater
Neptune, God of Waters, Holder of the Trident
Salve Minerva Augusta
Minerva, “Goddess of a hundred handicrafts”
Salve Mavors Pater
Mars, the Marcher Who precedes the army in battle, the Guardian of Fields and Boundaries
Salve Venus Amica
Venus, the Friend, Goddess of Love and Beauty
Salve Phoebus Apollo
Bright Apollo of Prophecy, the Radiant God of Bards
Salve Diana Nemorensis
Diana of the Wood, Goddess of the Hunt
Salve Volcanus Quietus
Vulcan at Rest, Smelter of Metals, God of Fire
Salve Vesta Mater
Vesta, the Eternal Flame of Home and Hearth
Salve Mercurius
Mercury, Gods of Merchants and Commerce
Salve Ceres Alma Mater
Ceres, Nurturing Mother, Goddess of the regenerative power of nature
Salvete Dii Consentes
Iuppiter Maximus Optimus, Jupiter, Best and Brightest.
Juno, in all Her Aspects
Stern Minerva, Who guides scientists and artisans.
Neptunus of life giving waters.
Mars Silvanus defending the land
Gracious Venus, our Friend,
Apollo Mendicus, the Healer
Diana of the Woods,
Volcanus, Smelter of Metals
Vesta of the Eternal Flame
Mercurius, Fleet-footed Patron of merchants
Ceres Who regenerates the land.
Salve Genius Paterfamilias Optimus
Guardian of the Family
Salvete Di Manes
Spirits of the Dead
Salvete Lars
Guardians of the House and Household
Salvete Di Penates
Gods of the Pantry, Cupboard, and Larder
Salve Cardea
Goddess of Door hinges, Consort of Janus, Who presides over family life
Salve Forculus
God of the Doors
Salve Portunus
God of Entryways, Keeper of Keys
Salve Terminus
Ancient God of Boundaries
Salve Mater Matuta
Goddess of the Dawn
Salve Sol Indiges
The Native Sun
Salve Luna Noctiluca
Luna Who Shines by Night
Salve Summanus Pater
God of the Night, Wielder of Lightening
Salve Tellus Alma Mater
Nurturing Mother Earth, Who is the Productive Power of the Earth
Salve Flora Mater
Goddess of Everything that Blooms, Goddess
Who comes with the multi-colored garlands of thousands of flowers, gardens, and fields.
Salve Furrina
Ancient Goddess of Springs and Health
Salve Pomona
Goddess of Fruit
Salve Dis Pater
Father of Riches
Salve Proserpina Dea
Wife of Dis Pater, Queen of the Dead
Salve Consus Pater
God of the Underground Granary and the Mundus
Salve Vediouvis
Ancient God who receives offerings on the behalf of the Dead
Salve Acca Larentia
The She-Wolf who suckled Romulus and Remus
Salve Carmentis
Mother of prophecy, healing, childbirth
Salve Saturnus Pater
Saturn, Father of the Gods, ushering the Golden Age of prosperity and farming
Salve Opisfere
Ops, Bringer of Help, Ops Consiva, Planter of Abundance, Consort of Saturn
Salve Romulus
Deified Son Mars, Co-Founder of Rome
Salve Numa Pompilius
Wise King of Rome, Founder of the Religious Institutions
Salve Evander
Evander, First Settler of Rome, who brought Music and Writing to Romans
Salve Hercules Magnus Custos
Hercules, the Great Guardian, the Slayer of Cacus the monster who menaces
Salvete Fanuus et Picus
Gods of the Groves, Gods of the Forest
Salve Anna Perenna
Goddess of the Year
Salve Vertumnus
The Turner, the Changer of Seasons
Salvete Si Deus, Si Dea
To the Gods, Whomever They May Be, the Unnamed and Unknown Gods
Lamentation
I cried for you
since they can’t see
the melded darkness
you removed from me
I stared at you
I saw your light
A beacon that removed me
From eternal night
I fucked — to you
I knew you saw
Bodies Burning!
Riding; enthralled
I called to you
Requests for sin
You scolded me
So never again!
I gorged to you
I stuffed my face
Rivulets of sustenance
Coating my face
I bled for you
Unknowingly; Did not know!
No ivy crown
Just fingers and toes
I wrote for you
Your most likely of demands
Because you took over
You trained these hands
I pray to you
Every morning, at first light
No longer will I hide it
Anymore, there is no fight
Great mother Isis
Queen of Retribution; Sekhmet
Sweet-tasting god – My Dionysos
All-seeing vehicle; Bastest
Director of Traffic; Mrs. Ma’at
Beautiful Zeus and his Cock!
Director of Knowledge –
Mr. Thoth…
Names forever in reverence, time matters not…
Those who know one realm
They’ll never be caught
Graveyards are for the dead
…All Lamentation Can Stop.
Hail to you Heimdall, who is not in his grave!
Hail Guardian of Bifrost
Son of Nine Mothers, Wave and Wind
Brightest amongst the Aesir
Sense Strong and Far Kenning
Bearer of the Gjallarhorn
Known as the White Ase
Whose Teeth are of Gold
Foe to Loki, both Shape Strong
Heimdall the Holy One
Bringer of Order
Brisingamens Hero
Protect the Fate of Yggdrasil
Hail to the kami, who are not in their graves!
O great, divine and august kami -
Humbly I speak your names
In order that knowledge of your glory may be spread in all lands.
Amaterasu-no-o-mikami, you who govern the life-giving Sun, we pray:
Shine your light upon us all in the coming year,
And illuminate the hearts of those who know you not.
Susano-o no mikoto, you whose love is as deep as the ocean
And whose anger is swift as the lightning, we pray:
Bless those who love you with the love of your nigimitama, your gentle spirit;
And use the power of your aramitama, your rough spirit, to bring understanding to the minds of those who know you not.
Daikoku-ten, great black god of earth and fortune, we pray:
Let the love of you and of all the kami grow in the fertile soil of our hearts,
And the wisdom to do that which is pleasing in your sight enrich our lives.
Koujin-sama, protector of the home, lord of the hearthfire and kitchen fire, we pray:
May we be accounted as part of your spiritual uji, the clan of those who love you.
Bring those who do not love you into the fold, help them to not remain gaikokujin, but to come home to the love of you and of all the kami.
Sarutahiko-no-kami, Guardian of Yamato and inspirer of Aikido, we pray:
As you taught O-Sensei the great wisdom of Aiki, to overcome attack with firmness of will and suppleness of technique,
Help us to always be wise warriors for the kami.
America Kokudo Kunitama-no-Kami, guardian of the North American continent, we pray:
As you guard and protect our lands, help us to guard and protect your honor.
Show yourself to those who know you not, that they may come to understanding.
We would like to give a special thanks to everyone who sent in material for tonight’s ritual.
Elaine Blakely.
Sulphur Blue.
Brannen.
Virgina Carper.
Erik.
Arielle Finberg.
Helio.
Jamie.
Jennifer Lawrence.
P. Sufenas Virius Lupus.
Michael Lux.
Teka Lynn.
M.
Marcus.
Amanda Morris.
Sarenth Odinsson.
Oli Peltier.
Rachel Izabella P.
RideFlame.
Suzy Sawyer.
Sparrow.
James Stovall
Del Tashlin.
Rebecca Rose Vassy
Porsha W.
Conor Warren.
Without you we could not have done this.
END
Contributor credits
Sulphur Blue, Untitled
Brannen, For An Dagda
Virgina Carper, Apollo
____, Cardea
____, Dea Dia
____, Di Penates
____, Janus
____, Jupiter
____, Mars Pater
____, Ops
____, Prayers to Groups of Roman Gods
____, Robigius
____, Saturn
____, Uni
Erik, Prayer for the Kami
Arielle Finberg, Prayer to Eostre
Helio, Bright Star (To Freya)
____, Did you hear that? (to Pan)
____, Libation of words (To Susanoo)
____, Stolen Prayer (To Laverna)
Jamie, To Cupidon
Jennifer Lawrence, For Demeter
____, Lady of the Cedar
Galina Krasskova, Prayer to Rashap
P. Sufenas Virius Lupus, To Izanagi-no-Okami
Michael Lux, To Axomamma
____, To Dagon
____, To Lucifer
____, To Mithra
____, To Petbe
Teka Lynn, To Bragi
____, To Eir
____, To Magni
M., For Xevioso
Marcus, For the God Hephaestus: The Divine Blacksmith
____, For the God Khnum: The Divine Potter
____, For the God Nabu: The Divine Scribe
____, For the Goddess Giltine: The Wise One
____, For the Goddess Medeina: The Divine Protector of the Forest
Amanda Morris, For Isthar, who cannot be contained by the grave!
Sarenth Odinsson, Prayer to Loki
____, Hymn of Crossing to Anpu
____, You, AllFather
Oli Peltier, A Prayer for Heimdall the Holy
Rachel Izabella P., My Lady, That Night, A Prayer
RideFlame, To Nergal
Sannion, To Amun
____, To Anath
____, To Dionysos
____, To Harpokrates
____, To Leshy
____, To Lú Samhildánach
____, To Montu
____, To Ptah
Suzy Sawyer, Untitled prayer to many gods
Sparrow, Prayer to Hestia for Community
James Stovall, To Viracocha
____, Veles
Del Tashlin, A Prayer Poem For The Incarnation of Loki As Interpreted By Stan Lee, Larry Lieber, and Jack Kirby for the God Graveyard Prayer Project on Wyrd Ways Radio
Rebecca Rose Vassy, To Venus
Porsha W, Lamentation
Conor Warren, A Children’s Hymn to Hermes
____, To Aphrodite
____, To Athena
Tagged: graveyard gods
