A prompt/writing entry a day |
Oh Nyyrikki, god of the hunt, you who are oft portrayed with antlered head, King of archery, bowing to few; your aim on target guide me to the path I must take. Hunter of the Greenwood, open my heart to the spirit of the wild ways that I may travel in their footsteps, kneel down in their bowers, taste bark and drink in their favored streams. Sing to me, great hunter, of the songs the forest sings, of the meanderings of the wood deer, of the mammoth bucks that roam. Show to me their rubs and scrapes, notched yet the runs I must travel, harken to mine ear the sounds of whuffs and blow that I may know their habits and come laiden home. Nyyrikki, speak to me of Kalevala ancestors, that my mind think as one with the ancients, able to follow in the wise ways of those who went before. Let me carry their standards from tree to flint-chipped rock, ground and sharpened, time spent in honed practice, in knowing the wild ways. Feed to me the blood of Herne's heart that I be as strong as my quarry, and as fleet of foot. Guide my arrow, Nyyrikki, that I may strike true, let it hit home, pierce lung, not bone, that I spill no blood in wounding. Guide my footsteps to track by branch and hoof, give me strength of eye to note the broken branch, and let me hear the requiem for the fallen as I give thanks for full bellies on my children and the wolf kept far from my door. Small human, you who call upon me, the lone Nyyrikki, know I hear you as the breeze that shivers the turning leaf, as one who needs must feed even as you are fed to keep Winter from freezing the door to your tomorrow frozen shut. I have watched thee in the early dawning hours, seen you still, watched chill breath smoke your presence and then vanish in the morn. I have listened as you learned to walk the quiet ways and watched you use all of what you take from my forest, wasting nothing. You are nothing to me, yet I allow you to partake of my bounty for thou art wise in the ways of giving back, of being in the moment both hunter and prey. No prideful seeking of glory, you seek only that which is needed in skin, meat and bone. Herne's heart you have already beating within your breast: for that which is sought is what he seeks as well. Go forth and aim your arrows truly, being in the way of one I call Hunter. Although I answer all who call, I do not always give the answer they desire. Traverse my wood, keep alive the knowing that burns within your eyes. Perhaps today or tomorrow, perchance the season's turning day, but I will not the antlered ones patterns sway nor turn the winds to scent your presence here. Tis an uneven battle you embark upon for my children are wiser yet than you, but you have earned antlered blood, walked the yearling miles and cried the tears of frustration. More, you think to thank and not just take, you do not impose. Hunt well and true, remembering you may well be prey to other gods lest you forget. 561 words *** from Wikipedia: Nyyrikki is the Finnish god of the hunt, the archer. Fitting the Green Man archetype, Nyyrikki has an antlered head. Nyyrikki was said to show a path for the hunter to take to get to these animals by cutting notches on the trees. Pronounced Ner-ik-i Fyn |