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Invocation to Weyland
In the alchemy of fire and earth, You are found.
In the ecstatic intensity of the artist’s focus, I see Your visage.
In the vitality, sheer momentum and force of the poet’s words,
I hear Your voice.
In the reverent solitude of eyes
enraptured by the beauty of a crafted work,
I feel Your presence.
It is there in the sheen of light across the finished veneer of a carving.
It is there in the polished steel of a hand forged blade.
It hides behind the delicacy of gemwork and jewelry,
It lurks in the constancy of building, carving, and crafting:
That focus, that holy Presence that marks the sign of Your passing.
Master Craftsman, Weyland the Smith, cunning and wise, I hail You.
Ancestor or God, I do not know.
Your inspiration is a gift more potent than a thousand blessings.
I would honor You always, Master of the forge.
Bless my hands, great Smith,
That they may craft things of beauty for my Gods,
Doing always well and wisely the work
That has been entrusted to my care.
Bless my eyes, that I may never neglect the beauty found in Midgard,
Often simple and unexpected, always sacred and nourishing to the soul.
May the works of my hand and heart ever increase this wisdom hoard.
Bless my tongue that I may never diminish another’s creativity
In careless thought, word, or unmindful action.
Make me mindful and respectful.
May I nourish those gifts You would bestow in every person I meet.
May I encourage creativity and a love of Your skill wherever I walk.
May I never forget the three tools that You proffer to any who ask:
Patience, perseverance, and practice.
May I bring these gifts, simple though they might be,
Into my daily life and into the life of my heart and mind and spirit.
Hail, Weyland the Smith,
May Your name ever be honored.
© Galina Krasskova
First published in “Be Thou My Hearth and Shield” edited by E. Vongvisith,
available at Asphodel Press.
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