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By Jim AOR In examining references to the Christian god in Beowulf, we can discern the presence of pre-Christian Germanic deities. Many academics today minimize the etymology of certain terms found in Beowulf and many translators use their poetic license to dilute the Heathen meanings of these same terms. Yet we can see in many ways the presence of Wyrd, the Norns, and sacral kingship in Beowulf. These implied uses of pre-Christian deities reinforce the idea that the church had not “won” in England in the early middle ages and still had to compromise with the Odinic spirit of the Anglo-Saxons.
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By Juleigh Howard-Hobson AOR They lay close to what we were told to know Of where they would be. Each knight, each horse, all Asleep within the hollow hill. Although We were told the old tales, told to recall Them, record them, remember…
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By Hervor OR Once upon a far and distant time, when the Gods were young – ere the First War was fought, or a wall built round Asgard – when we all lived in the forest and nobody lived anywhere else, the lad, Thor, sat on a shining summit of the Sacred Mountain, and looked out over the Earth.
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By Juleigh Howard-Hobson AOR To claim the future's birthright as their own The einherjar, reborn on old blood lines To old families all, came back. Winds had blown Bitter change since they last entered time: No more tall Thor poles guarded…
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by Redwald AOR The cool breeze brought a tantalising smell of springtime, and Dylan breathed deeply as he pushed his wheelbarrow down the garden path. He stopped and surveyed the barren looking ground before him, then closed his eyes and tried to picture how it would look in a few months’ time.
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By Phil AOR Sweat ran down Dylan’s face, despite the sub-zero temperatures. He knew he had to rest; just for a few minutes in order to get some food inside him. A rocky outcrop appeared along the path, and Dylan quickened his pace. Moments later he was squatting down beside his rucksack, out of reach of the icy wind. He stuffed his map case inside his coat and flexed his hands in an attempt to get the blood circulating, then rapidly sought out his flask and sandwiches.
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By Phil AOR Things were pretty normal in the weeks after the accident. Time spent in the hospital had been short lived and rebuilding the damaged bike was first and foremost in Dylan’s mind upon his release. Progress was slow until the insurance cheque came through, but thereafter things moved along quickly. Yet as the last finishing touches were completed, a weight began to impose itself on his shoulders.
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By Phil AOR The colours passed by in a blur of yellow, red and orange, and the cool autumn air rushed across Dylan’s face as he picked another gear and listened to the thunder from the open pipes of his jet black Triumph motorcycle. In another age his steed would have had iron hooves rather than rubber radials, but in essence it was all the same. As far as transport was concerned, the motorcycle, like the horse, was the natural choice of the free thinker and kept the weather-beaten traveller in close contact with the elements.
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by Thorsigurd AOR. Courage is my strength To withstand wretched foes To sail against the storm And the will to insist Honour is my will To defend my dear folk My moral in battle And the drive to do Good Truth is my oath To keep what…
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A Poem By Blutgeist OR Hail New Dawn! Hail New Awakening! Hail Sacred Powers of Old! Hail Holy Ones of Our Blood In ancient Saga long told! Hail Æsir! Hail Vanir! I salute you now, Not as slave, burdened with shame and sin, But as…
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A poem by Phil AOR
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Alone I stand On a hill of the Gods, The wind in my hair and beard, The pain of loss in my heart seared With thoughts of holy comrades Of those too far to touch. Alone I stand, Sword in hand held high. A call to mighty Odin `hael'; The…