anglo-saxon paganism
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Pæþwyrhta, You lead me to my path, sending my on another journey. I hail to thee, One-Eyed Wanderer, and walk the path you’ve guided me to lovingly. I sing your name, and study your mysteries, and learn all I might. So that I may, continue on, and fight this good fight.
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O’ Llwenog, Aelfwynn, the spirit who guides my steps. I call to you, flitting through the woods, fair and elfen in form, yet able to embody the fox. You guide my magic, help me wave my wand, and connect to the earth, to Annwn, to Aelfhome. You guide me through my path, delving into the
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O’ Ing, Fertile Lord, Sower of the Seeds, You helped me gather till my fields, and plant the seeds of my growing masculinity. You stood by my side as I deligently watered, cared, and tended my growing crop. Now, as hair grows on my face, and my voice deepens, you stand by my side, guiding
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Even when I am distant, wandering amidst the past, mimicking your mind, focused on finding my Truth, you guide me back home. Wanderer, O’ Woden, you hold a place deep in my heart. I feel the beat of your staff on earth, in time with the rhythm in my chest. Your runes are my comfort,
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O’ Wandering Wizard, Pæþwyrhta, You forge the paths of my future, Brim lowered to hide your eye, spear spurned to walk forward. You lead me through the dark, through the winding forests of life, to each new tomorrow that I must face. Hail to thee, Woden the Wise, for you instill my urge for knowledge,





