By the light of the moon,
The ritual will begin soon.
Runes all around,
No one is making a sound.
Bam bam one strikes the drum,
The night it echoes an ancient hum.
Slowly the beat continues.
A speaker speaks a prayer,
To the gods and goddesses to be honored there.
All done by the light of fire stars and harvest moon.
In the wind a slight chill we feel there,
Letting us know that autumn soon will be here,
But the chill is brief.
Songs are sung,
Runes are cast,
The old ways are being remembered at long last.
The Volva sits in her spirit trance, to commune with the higher spirits. All under the light of the harvest moon.
Hail to all the Aesir
Hail to the Vanir
Hail to the spirits of the earth.