Prayer to Sunna

Looking up into Your gloriousness,
I can’t help but be amazed;
memories of that dusty, dry day
which would soon turn into flood,
and the fire of Your offering
setting to me like a spark to wool,
burning me in sweet agony.

Though the words of Your brother
speak sweetly more to me
Let me not forget Your warm touch
in the darkest night,
for You alone provide the life
which effuses this shell of clay;
Wan and pallid would this world be
under the absence of your golden smile

Fire of the Gods, burning so gently
that one forgets that Your touch can kill,
can maim, can destroy,
like the flickering candle that appears harmless.
Yet your amber glow is still worshiped
in reverence and love, not fear and trepidation,
even by those who follow the White God alone,
at the temples of their bodies.

Long has Mani held my heart
in His gentle, sheltering hand;
let me not forget that it is also You
who shelters and lights the way:
though brightly You flare,
and burn my eyes,
I would not be without You.

You Who visits my love,
on the day of Your softest shining,
sending Dæg, your bright herald,
to knock at His front door
and ask entrance to His golden hall,
to feast and make merry among the host,
before setting off again on Your daily round,
before Skoll catches You up to nip at your heels,
forget me not in Your blazing,
in the burning and the flames
of the Sons of Muspel who tend Your fire,
and come again to shine down
upon me and all those
who wait upon Your love.

(c) Nicanthiel Hræfnhild 2008

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