I was born of the Sea

I was born of the Sea

The Sea, she pleases me
Within her, I was born and am reborn again
Opened to the pulse and beating rhythm
Mating with the storm of a Sea god, vehement and vengeful
A protective embrace to spiral down around my salty skin
And I rode his currents and I bore the waves
I am born and reborn again
Hail! my Daughters, you who swirl and foam and crash
And I ride the tides and bare the Waves
I am whole, within the Sea
I was reborn and am born again.

 

~Líadan Rán~

Freyja’s Chosen

Freyja’s Chosen

‘Tis savage, it is, the way you mortal men war among yourselves. Your lives are fleeting, in an instant created, and in an instant destroyed. You war and raid and praise in Our names, yet you know not the true faces of Us. We are not as your mortal minds conceive Us, and in your ignorance, you’ve built a fancy that your blood oaths and sacrifices keep us sated, keep us above you and benevolent.

We are all around, beneath the Mound, within it, and above it. We are neither benevolent nor malevolent. We are the Stars, the Sun and the Moon and the tides that bear down on the coasts of the Land you claim as yours. The Land you fight to conquer. We were here long before you, Mortals, and we shall be long here until the day of doom upon the world, and ever after Ragnarok takes us all into the Chaos.

But ’tis the ferocity…your ferocity in your battles that belies your honor, your heart, your need to believe. You worship Me, you worship my Maidens Valkyrie, as if honoring us on the field of battle will sublimate and separate you into a Clan you cannot possibly perceive.
Still I watch you call your Kith and raise your Swords and Shields, and still I do not turn away, because it is Love I see mortals live and die for; Love that forges hearts of steel and Spirits of iron; Love that gives me longing to invite you Warriors into my hall to rejoice your valor. Odin has his pick over Mine, but those I choose are those that hold Love above all else.

Mine own are Warriors who have not forgotten that it is Love they fight for, even in Death.
Because of this, I choose to praise your deeds as you praise those of the Gods. Because of Love, dear Warriors, I choose to open My Hall to your kind, calling you home to rest where you will meet your Loves left behind when the world dies to ash.

 

 

~Líadan Rán~

The Wooing of Emer

The Wooing of Emer

The myths of the Ulster Cycles and other legends and folklore that flow out of Ireland have been of interest to me for quite some time. After reading Cuchulain of Muirthemne: The Story of the Men of the Red Branch of Ulster by Lady Gregory, I became immersed and fascinated by the story that builds between Emer and Cuchulain. Evidently, he spurned her, betrayed her with another, and she spits fire at him in return.

Anyhow, this poem was a vision of sorts from what Emer herself may have felt upon meeting and interacting with the golden man himself.

The Wooing of Emer

The strain of my heart against his ribs
The heated blood that rises within me
He hath possess me, body and soul
Do I dare to utter the words to him? He who is golden and wild and ever-wandering
Seeking the Hero’s Victory
Foolhardy, indeed! You, whom I love
Leave me behind to pine? I think not,
I will surely protest in outrage of mistaking me for a meek and mild fawn,
A shy creature, poised and soft and compliant
O, not I! I am of a fire: rare and beautiful and deadly to behold!
For I will forsake you just as you forsake me
As surely you will be burned if you seek this thing,
This prize, this championship too bold to behold
And in your Victory, your blood shall be shed,
Upon the Stone of the Old Ones
You will perish, Dear One, and I refuse to bare the pain
So leave me now, and find your Warrior’s honorable death,
You who resemble the Sun, fiery in your lust to conquer
I will be no conquest of yours, and I shall stand fast with a Spell
To protect my heart

 

 

Read more about the legend and myth of Cuchulain and Emer on Wikipedia.

[Photo: Cú Chulainn Rebuked by Emer by H.R. Millar, 1905]

The Wrath of a God

The Wrath of a God

 

 

I will rip the ozone asunder,
rent open from my wrath and desperate hunger
The Lightning is mine to use as I will
and I will exert the power in my Thunder

I will not lose you, Goddess, to mortal pain and end
I will roar aloud with flame dashed to the earth
for it is your Love I will not give up on another’s word and folly

Hail down on lands and seas
I will wreck the plot and seed
if I cannot have you against my breast
and my beating Heart
though I be but one God, I will tear all open
as if I were Nine
until Hel herself shudders with fear
and I win back my Love and my Light
my equal and my like

Fair One, dear Heart
I will come for you
no Giant, no Elfin kind can hold me back from what I love
they will all know Mjölnir and tremble
and your redemption I will ensue
for you are mine and I will not quiet
until you are again in my arms

Introducing the Poetry of Liadán Rán

Introducing the Poetry of Liadán Rán

This is a new poetry project I created within the last few months, complete with pseudonym, mythology, legends and folklore of old pagan Europe. I am excited to see where this takes my pen and me! =)

Be sure to head to Líadan Rán Poetry to escape reality for a bit…