thivi, Goddess, come to us, come to us.Callings serve two purposes. First, they do just what the name implies: they call deities, letting them know we have need of them. Pagan deities aren't omnipresent; they take part in the world, rather than stand outside it. They are, thus, subject to limitations. If we want their presence, we have to call them, like children calling for their parents in the night. The demand is based on love, and parents respond to it.
There is also an element of responsibility at work here. Parents are responsible for their children, and so will respond to their calls. The gods know that they have more power than we do, and this gives them a certain responsibility. They'll help us, because they know it's right for them to do so.
Second, callings prepare us to receive the deities. They set up a relationship through which the gods may come to us. And they prepare us so that, when the gods come, we will know them.
Callings do not, however, force the deities to come. Prayers do not invoke with all-powerful names. They reach out and ask the gods to reach back.
Sometimes, the best way to call a deity is simply to keep silent and let the deity arrive. And if prayer is a conversation with divine beings, it is only right that we should occasionally let them speak, too.
We lift our hands.
We lift our voices.
With words and gifts, we offer to the gods,
calling them here.
Come share some time with me,
be my companion, my guest, my welcome visitor,
and I will play the gracious host to you, my friend.
Scary, huh, their presence?
Be brave
Hold fast
And face them proudly on your feet when they come
And come they will
when we call.
Gathered here, with the gods all around, we have to ask ourselves what they want. The old stories, and the rituals handed down in old books, say clearly that they want gifts. The question is, what gifts? The gods and goddesses are individuals, so they have differing preferences. Some like libations, some like things burnt in fire. What to pour out, what to burn varies as well, so to please them, we will have to learn what each most desires.
With all those differing desires, though, there is one thing they all want: open hands bringing gifts, not begrudgingly but willingly, even eagerly, glad to see them.
May that be what we offer them today.
If I have a patron deity, may I know who they are.
If I do not, may one come and make themselves known to me.
That is why I'm saying this prayer and making these offerings,
as if scattering them for the winds to blow to the proper place,
or casting them into the waves to follow the currents to where they belong,
into the ears and possession of my patron.
My prayer is to an unknown deity,
but is no less sincere for that.
I who stand before you,
I who come into your presence,
I who am your worshiper,
call out to you,
[Name].
I sit still, that my motion may not hide your presence.
I do not speak, that my words may not hide your voice.
I will still my thoughts, that my thinking might not block your arrival.
Gods of old, long have you waited,
seemingly forgotten and outgrown,
waiting with the patience born of wisdom,
for your children to remember you
and to come to you with open hearts.
Awake, come, that day is here.
Once more we pour libations,
once more the old songs rise,
once more the dance steps are traced,
once more your names are spoken.
Never more will the altars be unattended.
Never again the time of waiting.
Your children look to you once again
and pledge to you their faith.
Hail to you, Mighty Ones of old,
from ancient times till now your splendor endures.
We, your children, call out to you again;
as in the childhood of our race, we acknowledge our debts.
Deities of light and deities of darkness,
both gods and goddesses: we praise you.
Not forgetting one, not leaving any out,
we send our prayers to all of you.
Listen to our words; you will find them sweet.
Your children pray to you here.
[By “race” I do not mean black or white, but “species.” I use the word simply because “race” scans better than “species,” and sounds less scientific and more emotional.]
Sitting in anticipation of their coming, I open my mind to make their way smooth.
May the gods hear what I say and answer me, blessing me with their presence.
Accept my hospitality, Holy Ones;
be my guests at this feast.
Renew the ancient bonds,
continually recreated.
As I give, so will you,
for that is how true friends act.
Great company of gods,
I welcome you.
I call to the Holy Ones with open hands
asking that they come, that they grant me their presence.
Mighty and Shining Ones, worthy of worship,
I stand before you with welcoming words.
Come to me that we might feast together again.
With this small flame I send a message—it is my burning beacon fire.
May you see it, Shining Ones,
and draw near to me.
Filled with the holy power the gods send to those they love
I rise up in ecstasy, taken by them to the Land of Blessings.
Fill me, carry me, lift me in glory;
welcome me to your home.
Do you smell this?
Do you smell my incense as the smoke goes up in your honor?
I am the one who waits for you,
praising you, even in your absence.
Do not withhold yourself from me,
from one who brings you gifts,
from one who awaits you patiently.
I pour out this libation to you, as has been done since ancient times.
Come and accept your due.
May we sing with beauty
that they may hear beauty
and hearing beauty they will come:
they will come in beauty.
Each one we name will hear his name,
each one we name will hear hers.
May each, hearing their name, come.
We call them by their names:
[name deities].
With soundless chant, send your non-voice to those
who listen well when we are silent.
I sit in anticipation for those whom I have called,
who come to those who call and who wait.
When the drum beats, the gods answer.
When they hear its call, the goddesses come.
May all the mysteries that surround me be known to me:
I open myself up to them.
A door is opening, there in the air above the fire that is burning our offerings.
A gateway is forming, through which passes the road of life,
that makes its way for our world to that other,
where the gods dwell.
Look, they come; the Spirits are coming,
through the door, the gate, on the road.
Dancing, walking, beautifully moving they come,
to fill this sacred space:
everywhere you look, there are Spirits,
everywhere shining.
The dry sound of my rattle cries out my thirst.
I long for the presence of the Ones Who Bless.
What I cannot say with my parched soul,
my rattle speaks for me.
May Those Who Hear, hear this,
my prayer spoken in a rattle's voice,
and may they, hearing, come to quench my thirst for them.
I pour this cup:
come to me, [God's name], from your holy place.
I place this bread:
come to me, [God's name], from your holy place.
Come to the one who offers so faithfully,
and bless me, bless the one who offers faithfully,
bless me continually throughout my life.
Listen, I am calling to you,
all of you Holy Ones, calling to you,
all those I worship, calling to you,
sacred, divine, I'm calling to you:
Come to the one who is calling to you.
May this incense rise to the sky
and call the celestial ones here to my rite.
I pick up my drum:
it will be my voice calling to you,
Holy Ones,
a steady beat of praise.
Shining Goddess, love and support,
Shining God, support and love,
with horns of the crescent appear in the sky,
with horns of the stag appear in the field.
Appear in my presence,
before my eyes, in my heart:
God and Goddess, may I know you are here.
Come, Horned God, to the sacred space.
Come, Mother Goddess, to the prepared circle.
Come among us, we who belong to you,
just as we belong to you.
With joy, welcome!
We call upon the All-Father:
Come to us!
By the raging wind:
Come to us!
By the blazing fire:
Come to us!
By the surging water:
Come to us!
By the cold,
still earth:
Come to us!
By the Spirit of All:
Come to us!
Come to your people:
Come to us!
He it is who appears suddenly; he does not give me time to prepare.
And how would I prepare, anyway, against one such as him?
Nothing can withstand him, if that be his wish:
the victor, inexorably advancing.
Lord of Radiance, I wait for you.
I will not resist.
Come like a blasting wind;
even then I will be here with mind open before you,
even then I will be here with heart open before you,
even then I will be here with hands open before you,
awaiting your coming.
I am here, Lord, beneath your overreaching dome,
calling to you from the world so far below you.
I send my words up to you, building a road on which you might descend.
See them there, glowing in the air, the straight road leading to me.
Come to me, I ask, guiding yourself by my prayer,
come without error, and without delay, to me.
Between us there is a bond, strengthened by the thread of my prayer.
Come to me, who worships you.
Come, answer my prayer.
Tell me, Lord, what your message is for me. I have tried to decide for some time just what it is that you have to teach me. Now, at the end of my resources, I finally do what I should have done first: ask you yourself. Speak to me, Lord, and I will listen.
The Serpent King is stirring within me,
awakening, his fire and force growing.
The raving one awakes, who is spendthrift with his power,
breaking through, breaking down, breaking apart what is outworn.
Do what you must, thunder and lightning,
but leave behind a newly ordered creation,
an oak growing from the wet ground.
God in the forest, in the branching trees,
God in the city, in the moving crowds,
God within me, in my heart's drumming,
about and inside:
He is there, Hornéd Lord.
From out of deepest forest,
Come, Lord, I call.
Feet not denting the moss,
not cracking sticks,
not rustling leaves.
With silent power come, Horned One,
feet not pierced by jagged rocks,
not slipping crossing smooth stone,
sure-footed come, most-loved king.
Like wildfire consuming brush and trees,
roar into my life, Wild God;
like storm wind between rocks on mountain cliffs,
roar into my life, Wild God.
Like waves eroding sand and shingle,
roar into my life, Wild God.
Like lightning bolts striking the high-raised oak,
roar into my life, Wild God.
Like blizzard covering the frozen land,
roar into my life, Wild God.
Burn, and storm, and crash, and strike, and blow,
roar into my life, Wild God.
From the forests in which you roam:
come, great one, come, Great God.
From the fields in which you dwell,
come, great one, come, Great Lord.
From the mystery in which you dwell,
come, great one, come, Great King.
Great and wonderful,
with overpowering force,
come, Great King, Great Lord, Great God.
Come, Stern Lord:
Come to us!
Out of the darkness:
Come to us!
By the tempest wind:
Come to us!
By the devouring fire:
Come to us!
By the overwhelming sea:
Come to us!
By the opening earth:
Come to us!
By the Spirit that waits:
Come to us!
Come to your people:
Come to us!
We call on the Great Mother:
Come to us!
By the singing air:
Come to us!
By the dancing fire:
Come to us!
By the ocean water:
Come to us!
By the silent earth:
Come to us!
By the Spirit of All:
Come to us!
Come to your people:
Come to us!
When the Priestess stands in the circle,
filled with the divine Female Power,
she is not the symbol of the Goddess,
she is not wearing the Goddess:
she is the Goddess Herself,
here among us,
here, blessing us with what is only Hers to give.
That is why the Priestess is standing here in this circle.
It is why she stands in the center and waits for the Goddess to come.
Let us wait for her.
Let us sing for her.
Let us sing for the Goddess,
so that seeing us ready she might come.
[singing]
Come to us, Mother,
Oh, come to us here;
Come to us, Goddess,
Oh, come to us here.
[repeat as desired]
I pray to her who is the Mother of All and ask her presence today.
Mari, Mater, Anna:
I call to you by these ancient names.
I call to you by these names you are known
by and ask you to come to me.
Great Mother, help me. I have studied your ways for many years now, and still you hide yourself from me. I can call to you under a multitude of names, but still you do not come. I can tell a large number of your stories, but still I do not know who you are. I have many pictures of you, but still I have not seen your face. Though I throw out titles and powers and associations in mad armfuls, still there is nothing there when the whirlwind I create has become still. In that nothing, then, in the quiet after my storm, I will await you. Come to me, if such is your will, or do not come to me, if such is your will. Still I will wait. What else can I do?
Enter into the body of the priestess, Goddess,
in manifest form, be in our presence.
Display your wisdom in her words;
may what she says be your very speech.
Show your actions in her deeds;
may what she does be your ways.
Through her eyes, gaze on us here;
through her vision, see us before you.
Through our prayers, descend on her here;
through our prayers, descend on her, Moon.
Lovely and Mighty, be with us, Goddess.
Be with us, Goddess, in our priestess's body.
Fill her here with your very self.
Whether as Isis, Goddess, come to us, come to us.
Whether as Demeter, Goddess, come to us, come to us.
Whether as Pthivi, Goddess, come to us, come to us.
Whether as Gaea, Goddess, come to us, come to us.
Whether as Ishtar, Goddess, come to us, come to us.
Whether as Athena, Goddess, come to us, come to us.
Whether as Hera, Goddess, come to us, come to us.
Whether as Diana, Goddess, come to us, come to us.
Whether as Freyja, Goddess, come to us, come to us.
Whether as Epona, Goddess, come to us, come to us.
As the Goddess of many names, Goddess, come to us, come to us.
By whatever name, Goddess, come to us, come to us.
As our Goddess of All, Goddess, come to us, come to us.
Come to us, come to us, come to us here.
Come, Dark Mother,
Come to us!
Out of the night, on owl's wings:
Come to us!
By the screeching wind:
Come to us!
By the cleansing fire:
Come to us!
By the absorbing water:
Come to us!
By the covering earth:
Come to us!
By the Spirit that waits:
Come to us!
Come to your people:
Come to us!
Hear, All-Gods, these words of ours.
Come, all of you:
there is always room for you,
here and in our hearts.
My words drop into a bottomless well
and reach you,
All-Gods.
My words are nothing with so many given you in all time and space.
And so I say them,
speaking myself into that never-ending river:
All-Gods.
All the Gods, we pray to you.
All the Goddesses, we pray to you.
With sweet words,
with ready hearts,
we call you with praise.
Be with us in our rite.
Be with us here today.
Come to us, Holy Ones!
Come to us and give us your blessings.
Do not hide from us, in water or reed,
fire of offering, High Priest Agni.
Be strong on our altar, raised to the gods,
you who are first to receive our offerings.
Lap with your many tongues this butter poured into you,
this golden gift, clarified, pure,
into your flames, clear and pure.
Grow strong, grow high, fed by word and butter,
increase in strength through our prayers today,
words poured out like sweetest butter
in your praises.
To my dancing mirror,
reflecting early dawn's glimmers,
come, Amaterasu-ōmikami,
and dance yourself before this worshiper
who comes to you with purified hands,
who prays to you with purified mouth,
to the purest of all,
the Sun who carries all before her.
Come out of your cave, Amaterasu-ōmikami,
and see the dance,
and dance yourself, before your mirror.
Don't hide in your cave of clouds, Amaterasu,
and deprive our world of your splendor.
Come to the mirror we have prepared,
washing it with clear water.
See, we are clean, too;
nothing is here that would defile.
We are worthy of your presence and eager to see you.
Leave your cloud cave and shine for us.
[There is a little ritual prescribed in this prayer. The person praying washes themselves. (Japanese deities are real sticklers for purity and cleanliness.) A mirror is also washed and set up in a shrine. The worshiper then bows and claps their hands before praying.]
High Lord, Apąm Napāt,
come among us.
You who bring peace,
ending strife,
be in our midst.
End all disagreement between us
that we might worship you together,
that we might worship all the Holy Ones properly,
in Good Order.
Apollo of the shining bow,
with hair of flame, with beauty shining,
truth's bright friend and falsehood's foe,
master of both lyre and singing:
Be with me, bring art and grace,
Be with me, bring light and song,
Be with me, bring all that is beautiful,
bring all that is beautiful when you come to me.
Come, Aśvins, in your golden chariot,
to all who require saving
from all dangers around them.
Come to this offering of honey,
most beloved of you.
Come to those who call to you,
most beloved of the gods.
Come to us in the fire on our hearth;
consume the logs gladly.
Come to our home, Brigid of Protection;
consume the logs gladly.
Triple fire shining in the hearth of our home,
Brigid, Healer Brigid, to you our worship,
to you our hearts calling.
Triple flame burning in the hearth of our strength,
Brigid, Mighty Brigid, to you our worship,
to you our hearts calling.
Triple blaze leaping in the hearth of our souls,
Brigid, Poet Brigid, to you our worship,
to you our hearts calling
Triple tongue speaking, to you we listen.
Be with me, Cernunnos,
whether I am moving or standing still,
whether at home or abroad,
whether at work or at rest.
Be my strength and my counselor,
providing both the judgment to choose the right path
and the courage to walk it boldly.
Come, Cybele, come.
Come, Cybele, come.
Come, Cybele; come Cybele,
Come, Cybele, Come.
Hear the tambourine.
Hear the sounding drum.
Hear us as we call you,
come, Cybele, come.
[repeat as desired]
Dagda Mor, I speak your name,
Emptier of cauldrons, your child calls you:
into the past
through the mists
over the border between our worlds
my words go flying straight to you.
Eochu Ollathair, I speak your name,
Marker of borders, your child calls you:
out of the past
through the mists
over the border between our worlds
travel the trackway, straight to me.
Morrígain mate, hear my words.
Champion eater, receive my gift.
Dawn in my heart,
Maiden who brings hope to those who despair;
light to those wrapped in darkness.
Ride from your high-lying land, Dievas,
to we who wait for you,
who wait for your freely giving hands,
who wait for the establishment of justice and order that you bring,
who wait eagerly for you to be in our midst
with your all-illumining power.
Come, Dievas, lord of sky;
come, we pray.
Dionysos, Lord of the Vine,
inhabiting spirit of the wine-filled cup,
bring joy to those who come together here.
Bind us together in the brotherhood of the cup.
Come roaring, with bellows of bulls,
come tearing apart, with blood-bearing hands,
Dionysos, come, with maenads in your train,
leopard-riding, come, with claws and teeth.
You who fill your devotees with ecstasy
pouring yourself unreservedly through their lips,
I ask you for your presence here today
that our gathering might be properly blessed.
Into our presence ride, Dioskouroi,
on white steeds, golden-maned,
sparks from hooves as they strike.
Ride together, side by side,
equal but different,
to those who worship you,
those who pray to you, savior gods,
who watch those who find themselves in strife.
We have need of you, Zeus's boys:
wherever you are, hear and come.
US PTRMay my prayer be the road on which you come
from your celestial home, Dy
us Ptr.
May my words be food for your shining horses
as they carry you to me, Dyus Ptr.
Enter this space, guided by what I speak:
Come to one who is faithful to you,
Come to one who does not neglect his duties to you,
Come to one who is not stingy with offerings.
Dyus Ptr, come to me.
Broad-pastured one,
who spreads beneath us,
on whom we walk,
in whom we plant,
from whom grows grass
that feeds our herds.
Mother Earth, to you we call,
to bless our rite with your holy presence.
You who give birth and receive the dead,
The beginning and the end of all.
I called you to this place where you already are.
Foolish me, to call Earth to earth.
Instead, then, I will turn my mind to you
and remember to see you all around me.
A creature of earth, I call to you, Earth Mother.
Yet you are here already,
surrounding, supporting,
holding me gently,
so my call is rather to myself,
that I might see you as you really are:
Blesséd, blesséd, most blesséd one,
Holy Mother Earth.
Come, cat-drawn, Freyja, to me.
Come, word-drawn, Freyja, to me.
Through encircling leaves I see your face;
you smile, and hoot, and roar,
as outstretched branches and rising trunk,
and dance along the forest floor.
I hear you, Green Man:
swiftly come.
Your outstretched enfolding arms offer cattle,
pour out rich milk,
that we might, like children, grow in prosperity.
Leading cows you come to your worshipers,
who, pouring golden butter, come to you.
You whom even Zeus reveres,
who standing at the crossroads,
where magic dwells,
watch all ways:
be at the center of my life;
may I see through your eyes.
Though the gods thought you ugly,
I do not, Hephaestus,
For how can ugliness create such beauty?
Though cast out from heaven
you are welcome in my tools.
Then come, Hephaestus, then come,
and together we will create wonders.
Come, Horus, among us,
striding powerfully,
one foot forward,
ever-arriving:
be here today in our presence,
clearly existent in our midst.
Hawk-headed, come, Horus,
sweeping all that could harm before you,
burning it away with your solar-blessed eyes,
that I might worship you in the right way,
as you deserve.
The rainbow is a mystery of fire in water,
Sun through clouds;
since ancient times the bridge between the everyday and the divine.
You who proclaim the messages of Zeus,
who proclaim the will of Fate,
fly to us swiftly along the colored ribbon
that reaches from sky to earth.
Iris, come gently that we might gladly hear your words.
Come, Winged One, come.
Come, High Throne, come.
Come, Keening Wife, come.
Come, Loving Queen, come.
Come, Isis, come,
Come, Isis, come.
Listen to the sound of the sistrum's call,
calling you to me, Lady of the Throne,
calling to Isis, the World's Loving Queen,
O Mother of Horus, it is you I call,
with rattling music of the sistrum I call.
Kami of this place and this time,
I respect you, so I have come to see and praise you,
but not before I have purified myself,
becoming fit to stand in your august presence.
As lightning strikes down from grey skies,
come among us,
your spear flashing,
Treasure of the north flashing.
True king, Lug,
we call you to be here,
promising to follow your just laws,
as is right.
As I'm sitting on the sand between high tide and low tide,
with the cold passing almost unhindered through my now wet clothes,
part of me is saying, “What, are you nuts?”
But there's the other part,
the one that's reaching out eagerly,
desperately even,
wanting to see and know you,
to join hands together as friends meeting after too long apart.
That's the part that is taking the cold and wet and lighting a fire in my soul with it,
warming my freezing body.
You won't come to me unless I set out for you.
And we will meet in the middle.
That's why I'm sitting here, in the space between the land and the sea.
That's the middle, isn't it?
My prayer goes out on the ebbing tide.
May you come to meet me on the return,
riding on the crest of the waves,
crashing into my heart's shores.
May your horses, their manes foam-flecked,
their hooves forever crashing onto shore,
carry you constantly into my life,
Manannán mac Lir, wave-rider.
From tearing ocean into welcoming bay,
Come homeward, Sailor, on silver keel.
Cross beacon-guided the shattering shoal,
and gently come, and joyful stay.
From tearing ocean into welcoming bay,
past guardian jetty, guide your boat,
and tie its rope to pillared pier,
and gently come, and joyful stay.
From tearing ocean into welcoming bay,
set foot on land with blessing touch,
and enter home, and sit at hearth.
Come homeward, Sailor; come, Son of Sea:
O gently come, o joyful stay.
As the mist on your ocean, Mac Lir,
dissolves with the touch of the Sun as it rises toward its height,
so may all that separates me from the presence of the Gods melt away.
I see a man coming toward me,
in a brazen chariot;
the horses that pull it are snorting sea fog.
The green sea to me is a grassy field to him,
over which he rides;
the scattered sea foams are flowers about his wheels.
Who is this man who rides this way?
It is Manannán, son of Sea,
whose chariot approaches,
the god closest to man.
Clear away the sea's mists, Son of Sea,
that bar the way to the sacred land.
Guide me safely, belled-branch led,
along the sacred path;
guide them, the Holy Ones, with the sound of the ringing, to me.
I hear you in the shaking of the shields,
in the clatter of the spears,
in the stomping of your priests on the ground,
Father Mars.
We call to you who are already here.
May we be aware of your presence.
Awaken this in us who speak your name in reverence.
You come in the silence, Nuit,
when space is left open for your infinite emptiness.
And so it is that speech, and deeds, and any searching won't find you.
Only waiting.
I sit here and wait with openness, with longing but no expectation.
Though all else is empty, the longing remains.
I hope you will not begrudge me that, and will still bring me to you.
Goddess of Infinite Stars,
and of the Infinite Space between them;
of Everything, of Nothing,
of the Nothing that is All.
I call to You from below,
to You above,
and beyond,
and between.
Take me into Your darkness,
bring me to shine as one of Your numberless stars.
Long is the hair of the Star Goddess
and long is the night in which I wait for her.
Lost in the expanse of limitless space
containing infinite numbers of stars but filled with emptiness.
I cast myself into her measureless darkness,
confident that she will come if only I wait.
Though the night may be long, I will still wait for her,
offering my patience in sacrifice to win her presence.
[This would work for the Egyptian goddess Nut, as well. Since the Wiccan Goddess is sometimes called “Star Goddess,” it can even be used for her.]
Odin, come, as wanderer come,
to bring wisdom, to bring teaching.
Or, if not, send Hugin and Munin,
to give, through them, swift thought and accurate memory.
Lord of the Pathway, to you I call;
Lord of the Pathway, I lift my voice to you.
Gate Keeper, Waiting One,
Open the door,
that I might pass through to the land of the Gods,
there to be refreshed by the power of the Great Ones.
On the edge of sight, I can see a wonder:
a woman on a horse walking slowly away,
her Moon-pale steed taking even strides.
If I send swift thoughts racing after her
I cannot overtake her;
her careful steps keep ahead of my impetuous racing.
I call out to her:
“Lady, for the sake of the one who loves you,
I beg of you, stop.”
She comes to a halt and I can approach.
She says, “It would have been better if you had done that first.”
I remember, and call to her in love,
and wait for her to stop for me.2
With your outpouring light do not just bathe my outside, Selene;
I offer you the hospitality of myself.
May you find a well-appointed home there.
May he who, pressed out, is life, is power,
May he whose roaring calls us to the ritual, to drink,
May he, granting gifts, filling us with immortality,
May he, king Soma, be praised in this prayer.
May he, hearing me, come to join me in this rite.
May my words draw him hither.
Sraoša, come, first of the gods,
to me today,
so that, as I sit before the fire of offering
my words may be well formed,
may be beautiful and dear,
may be true,
so that they will greatly please the Shining Ones.
You whose body is the speech of prayers
come to me and bind me to proper language.
If we have angered you in any way, Telepinu, we are sorry.
If anything we have done has caused you to withdraw, we ask forgiveness.
Without you the land is dry,
without you the grain does not grow,
without you the animals do not multiply,
without you we do not prosper.
Return, we ask, and revivify the land,
make it and all of us and all we own fruitful.
Come and smell the cedar oil we pour out!
Come and taste the sesame seed we lay out!
Come and anoint yourself with the pure olive oil we set up!
Come to us, be happy.
Come to us, calm your anger.
Come to us, still your soul.
Come and remain with us throughout our days.
Telepinu, do you hear?
Wherever you are, listen to our prayer and come.
Wielder of Mj
lnir, Mighty Protector,
Enemy of the Midgard Serpent;
Killer of Giants, Crusher of Foes,
Strider across valleys and mountains:
Thor I praise, friend of people,
and call him to my feast.
Enemy of the Midgard Serpent,
who is fated to bring us doom,
come to us with crashing Mjlnir,
to protect us from all that would beset us,
from all that would oppose our rites.
Come, with thunder flapping in your wings.
Come, with lightning flashing from your eyes.
Come, with rain clouds carried in your claws.
Come, greater than falcon.
Come, greater than red-tailed hawk.
Come, greater than buzzard.
Come, greater than eagle.
Come, greater than all that flies.
Come, bright Thunderbird,
Come into our lives.
There are gods of all and gods of each.
At this moment, when I don't know whom to turn to,
gods or men,
I know at least that there is one deity,
or many,
who will hear my prayer and see my need,
and will answer me with blessings.
Though I don't know who receives this prayer
and this offering,
I know you are mighty and worthy of worship.
Accept my gifts and overlook my ignorance.
Each word, you.
Each syllable, you.
Each sound, you.
Each thought of utterance,
you, O Vāc.
May all my spoken words
and even all my unspoken
be you, O Vāc.
Velnias, though lord of the dead whom we separate from,
you are yet a helper to all.
Velnias, although ruler of the dark beneath,
you are yet beautiful to behold.
Velnias, although king of the world beneath,
you walk freely under Saulė's light.
Velnias, you appear in manifold forms,
as any of the living things that draw their sustenance in that which grows from your soil:
appear to us and bless us as we offer freely and gladly to you.
Venus, rising from the sea,
manifest yourself before me
that I might worship you
that I might praise you
that I might pray to you for love
that will fill my life with happiness.
I do not ask, as rash Semele did,
to see your true form.
But come in whatever form you wish
to this altar, smoking with incense,
Zeus who hears the suppliant's prayer.
From the first self-replicating molecule to we who stand here today
has been a long, precarious journey,
the bush of life branching and branching again,
with most twigs ending in brittle death, in brutal extinction.
Even with all its dead branches lying broken on the ground beneath it,
the bush still lives,
connecting our own small twig to all the rest.
We are related to all life, with many shared ancestors,
going back to that first self-replicating molecule,
each with their own wisdom to give us if we ask pleasantly.
That's why we are here on this occasion.
We have spoken sweet and kind respectful words to you,
the way you deserve.
Come together and join your family gathered here.
Ancient Ones, whose realm is the night:
We call to you, we call you here,
and when you come, may we face without fright,
the Dead, and death, from whose deep land,
we call to you, we call you here,
we call to you here, to come to us.
Come, Eagle, carrying in your feathers the Heavenly Ones, riding to us.
Hidden from me in the forest around me
within each tree, behind each rock,
the Spirits of the wild are gathered,
unseen by people who walk, heavy-footed, through their world.
I will sit quietly and wait for you,
leaving you these gifts.
Surrounded by the forest's trees, I am surrounded by the Spirits of the forest. I sit here, on the needles and leaves, and spread my arms in greeting. Come to me, if you wish; I hope for your coming. I wait here for you, hoping to see you. And if you do not come, I will still leave these gifts for you, for my hands are not closed. My hands are open in generosity toward you, they are extended in friendship toward you.
I see trees, I hear birds, I feel stones and dirt against my walking feet;
insects crawl on me or buzz around me, trees stand solid, and smaller plants bend as I push through.
The earth smells of rotting leaves, and of life.
I see and hear and feel and smell so much in this forest.
But with my greatest attention I will miss you, Spirits, unless you make yourself known.
Come to me; if you don't want to be seen with my eyes, come in other forms,
or even come in ways I will find hard to perceive.
I promise to wait for you with careful attention.
Only come.
From the branches of the trees they are peering.
From the faces of the stones they are looking.
From the surface of the waters they are rising.
They are coming here to drink this milk I have poured out for them.
On the trail of cornmeal the Spirits come, dancing,
their feet not smudging its golden road;
along it they come to those who have made it.
Do you hear me, Land Spirits?
I am calling to you.
Here I am, Land Spirits:
Come to me.
Here are gifts for you:
Come and I will give them.
I am calling you, Land Spirits.
Come and talk to me.
Riding the sound of the deep drumming
come to me as I call to you.
Come to the rhythm of the heartfelt pounding,
come to me as I call you here.
All of you who inhabit this place
Come to me as I call you here.
2 This prayer recalls the story of Pwyll, King of Dyfed, from the Mabinogion. Pwyll sees a wonder: a woman on a pale horse, riding slowly. He sends messengers on swift horses to overtake her, but no matter how quickly they go, she keeps ahead of them, all the while continuing to move slowly. Finally, Pwyll himself tries to overtake her, without success. In desperation, he eventually cries out, “Lady, for the sake of the one you love best, I beg of you, stop.” She stops, stating, “It would have been better for your horse if you had said that first.” The woman is Rhiannon. In the story, she is a woman, but there is enough magic about her to make it safe to assume that she was originally a goddess. There are, in fact, enough parallels to other stories to suggest strongly that she is a Welsh version of the Indo-European goddess of sovereignty, the one who allows kings to rule. (Her name means “Great Queen.”) This makes her one of the most powerful of all goddesses. I have changed the wording slightly to make the scene more appropriate for a prayer.