While relaxing outside in the chilled night air I was
overcome by thoughts of our folks past. Traveling on sheets of ice
while in search of shelter from the elements, clad in the cloak of an honored
beast, weapons made by my own hands. I could sense a determination and
courage still deeply buried within us all. Moving through the high
country, the plains and meadows of the sky country before me, kin before
and behind, bearing crude weapons into battle but carrying wills of tempered
steel. Traveling the sea in search of honor, wealth, and sustenance
while calling to our Gods at once an oath and a challenge. Sitting
in an encampment deep in the forested hills, watching the movement of our
women, children and men, as they close another day of survival. Voices
raised in honor to deeds of the past, of today, and those not yet fulfilled.
Sitting in council to hear of our Gods and a way unbroken while mead flows
freely and a common bond bathes the room in a warmth unequaled by mere
fire. Gazing into the eyes of a woman filled with a will of destiny
for her people and knowing, without speech, that you are as one in this.
These, and other, thoughts went through my mind and body
like a spear and I looked around to see these things in the present.
They exist, to be sure, but how small and scattered they have become.
A small gang of punks accost an older women of our folk. Many pass by but her agony is ignored out of fear. A small girl is bussed to an environment devoid of kin and her life is changed forever. A man, bound by honor and blood, watches as his family die for his beliefs. A silent world marches on as the vitality is sucked from the very marrow of our folk.
Why have so many abandoned the past in despair of the
present? Without the seeds planted long ago our future will be bleak.
This all would be depressing if it weren't for those who have revived our
ancient ways and rites to build for a future worth striving for.
I hail you all for the dedication to our Faith and our
Folk.
Fare with our Gods
Heimdall (Steve)