Daily Haibun, June 26th – Birdsong

trevor pye on Unsplash

It might be nearing midnight. But outside the birds are still singing. Filling the bright night with sounds.

The nighttime birdsong
Fills the midsummer bright night
The sound of solstice

© RedCat


Rainhard Wiesinger on Unsplash

Read other Haibun’s written for the monthly dVerse prompt by me here.

Read other Daily Haibun’s here.


Æsir Solstice Sunrise


In preparation for the solstice sunrise
The Æsirs beat their biggest drums
Filling the nightless midsummer night
With a majestic boom-boom-hum

Heimdallr heralds dawn by blowing the mighty Gjallarhorn
By Thor the holy hammer Mjölnir is thrown
The air by lightning strikes is torn
The earth seeded with protective thunderstones

Freya dons her feather cloak to fly
Seeking girls born with seiðr powers
Sending dreamers her priestess cry
To ken, pick seven kinds of flowers

The first step on the Völvas path
To see the meaning of the magic runes
Only for those that fearless curiosity hath
The hearing of the Norns spinning tunes

From the clouds that Frigg has spun
A cleansing rain starts to fall
Nourishing this year’s harvest growth begun
Ensuring food for animals and folk all

Ask and Embla’s children rise
Woken by the storm sounds
Hearing the Goddess falcon cries
Know it’s time to attend to holy grounds

The world cleansed, all peoples awake
Æsir, elfs, humans, vanirs and fauns
Sol her chariot to heaven take
Raising the sun to solstice dawn

©RedCat

Frigga Spinning the Clouds by John Charles Dollman
via Wikimedia Commons

This is the poem I began composing as I lay listening to the thunder on the shortest night of the year. I’ve managed to learn a trick that makes me able to remember short stanzas even after sleep. I compose a short stanza, or maybe only a couplet. Then while focusing on the sound, rhythm and feeling of what I want the poem to become, I say the lines over, and over, and over. Until they are firmly set in my mind. I do something similar when walking and having an idea, but not wanting to stop to write it down. This technique works most of the time, and gets more and more reliable the more I use it. I think this is relatively easy for me to do because when I sang as a child, all songs and melodies had to be learnt by heart.

I’ve read more than once that there’s absolutely no evidence for any pre-Christian Midsummer or Solstice celebrations in the North, even though most people here think so. And while I accept that fact. I refuse to believe that any people this far north would have celebrated only Midwinter, when night is nearly, or wholly depending on how far north, all day long. And not celebrate Midsummer when there is no true night, only day, dusk and dawn. Or Midnight Sun if you’re far enough north.

So while my poem is based on real Norse mythology – Æsir Gods and Goddesses, magical items and folklore. The story itself is wholly dreamt up by me listening to thunder rumble and boom.

Below you’ll find a list of internet sources where you can read more on each included God or Goddess, item or folkloric belief.


Shared to and read at Open Link Night #295 – Midsummer Live at dVerse.

Also shared to:

earthweal weekly challenge: A MIDSUMMER NIGHT’S DREAMTIME.

Writers’ Pantry #76: Whatever the Weather over at Poets and Storytellers United.

Promote Yourself Monday, June 28, 2021 at Go Dog Go Café.


 Nornir of Norse mythology at the  Urðarbrunnr., by L. B. Hansen
via Wikimedia Commons

Æsir, Vanirs and Elves
Freya
Frigg
Norns
Sol
Thor
Heimdallr

The Gjallarhorn 
Mjölnir

Ask och Embla
To ken – Kenning
Seiðr – Magic
Thunderstones
Völva – Seeress


Daily Haibun, June 21th – Summer Solstice

Brandon Morgan on Unsplash

The shortest night of the year. On my latitude that means no real night at all. No real dark. Dusk lasts all the way to dawn.

About an hour before sunrise, the overcast sky started to rumble. Those deep booms of thunder, that’s felt in the bones. That awakens sleepers from their dreams.

As I lay holding my youngest child. Reassuring him back to sleep. I took soul deep pleasure at the mighty sound. I’ve always loved thunderstorms.

The last thing I remember hearing before falling asleep. Was my mind starting to compose poetry from the sound, and the first drops of rain.

As thunder booms and
lighting crackles, the witch feels
safe in Gaia’s arms

© RedCat


Today’s Haibun is written for Haibun Monday at dVerse.

I’ve spent the day contemplating and writing those thoughts that begun during the night. I’m sure some of it will appear later in the week.


Read other Haibun’s written for the monthly dVerse prompt by me here.

Read other Daily Haibun’s here.


Raychel Sanner on Unsplash.

Solstice prayer – 21 December (2019 Re-post)

© RedCat

I burn this so it may die within me
Leaving fertile ashes
where new life-pattern can grow

I burn this to signify re-birth
To give the seeds sown space
and nourishment to grow

I burn this to signify my Will set
Writing my pain,
Finding peace
Dancing with soul
Showing passion
Self-loving in heart
Accepting philia

© REDCAT

Written for the solstice ritual of 2019.

The unusual and artistic image below, made using a technique known as “solargraphy” in which a pinhole camera captures the movement of the Sun in the sky over many months, was taken from the Atacama Pathfinder Experiment (APEX) telescope on the plateau of Chajnantor.
Read more on the linked source page.

January – February wrap

© RedCat

Midwinter, new years, without winter, the dark felt endless.
Winter solstice, seasonal introspection, renewed will, intent to change.
Birch Moon, lights return, energies thaw, chance to learn, to grow.
Realisation dawns, emotions poured out on page,
stay there, take hold, are felt by others.
Lonely, yet cared for. Nearly friendless, yet surrounded by love and empathy.



February. Coldest month of year – warmest ever.
If the snow hasn’t fallen now – spare us a late March one.
Quickening Moon, first glimpses of spring to come.
Know beating depression requires change. Self-faith.
No reading have ever gotten me there.
Can a compassionate conscious breath be the answer?


Writing now a habit, daily practice, to pour onto paper.
Turn life, love, thoughts, ideas, to poetry, or lately,
maybe even fictionalized scenes here or there.
And all you who read this, have help a seed germinate.
Slowly belief – I have a special way with words – are taking root.

Your kind, loving feedback means so much. ❤️

© RedCat



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