Thirteen Moon-Prayers for Frigga’s Handmaidens

(Raven's Note: The thirteen-moon lunar tree cycle in this prayer cycle is the Celtic tree-months. I was awakened out of a sound sleep by a stern conflagration of Frigga’s maidens who demanded that I write them a year-cycle of monthly prayers using that system. One of them told me that there were people out there who were of both Celtic and Norse descent, and wished to honor both those ancestral paths together, and that this prayer cycle would do that for them. The prayers are meant to be said monthly on the night of the new moon, starting with the new moon following the Winter Solstice.)



On the Moon of the Birch Tree,

White sapling of Frigga,

I pray to her dearest sister Fulla,

Lady of Abundance in all things.

As the birch steps forward into the burned field,

Lady, fill my life with new life, new growth

Springing up from the ashes of my losses.

Let me always believe that there will be

Enough to go around, enough to share

Of anything of true importance in the world.



On the Moon of the Rowan Tree,

Warding Tree with your orange berries,

I call upon Gefjon, Mother of Bulls.

Grant me courage in all things, especially

When I stand alone with no one to aid me,

Staring at a monumental task.

Give me confidence in my own independence

That I might not be dependent on others

Who are not worthy of my trust and need.



On the Moon of the Ash Tree,

Pillar of Odin’s ordeal,

I call upon Snotra, Lady of Labors.

Working maiden, lend my back strength

And my hands skill; give me endurance

To do the work that must be done,

Whether that be work of body, hands,

Mind, heart, or spirit. May I learn

To see the work through to the very end,

Be it sweet or bitter on my tongue.



On the Moon of the Alder Tree,

Fire’s friend, source of the finest coals,

I call upon Lofn, Lady of Permission.

Give me leave to love those things

That I was taught that I should not love,

With a fire so fierce that no cruel words

May breach it. May I love who and how I wish,

And most of all, in that list of forbidden loves,

May I, myself, and my own soul

Be as much my beloved as any other.



On the Moon of the Willow Tree,

River-guardian, reliever of pain,

I pray to Eir the Healer.

May my limbs be whole, my blood be clean,

My flesh be free of all disease,

My days be long and healthy,

My mind be free of mists and storms.

May you, Lady, grant this gift as well

To all those that I love and honor.



On the Moon of the Hawthorn Tree,

Love’s passion, love’s pain,

I pray to Sjofn the Reconciler.

Thorns strike deep into the heart

With every wrathful word,

Every thoughtless slight, every fear.

Lady, help us to draw each thorn,

Bind each wound, see past the tears

And find again joy in each other.



On the Moon of the Oak Tree,

Steadfast watcher, thunder’s friend,

I call upon Vor the Oathtaker.

May my word be strong as the ancient tree

Upright in the midst of saplings

That bend and sway with the winds

Of opinion, of feeling, of fear.

Hold me to my vows, even when the burden

Of each commitment is heavy as stone.



On the Moon of the Holly Tree,

Iron Warrior of the blood-red berries,

I call upon Syn the Witness.

For once vows are made, they must be fought for,

And the hardest enemy of integrity

Lies not without, but within my own soul.

Close the gates of my will against those voices

That whisper and tempt from within,

That would lure me to a more convenient path

Whose road-toll is my own self-worth.



On the Moon of the Hazel Tree,

Meat of bards and skalds,

I call upon Saga the Historian.

Lady who guards the treasure of words

Congealed from the songs of many voices,

Help me to find, among your piled bounty,

The inspiration that I need to keep going,

The right phrase that will echo in my mind,

Bring a smile to my lips, and resolution

To my faltering steps along this my path.



On the Moon of the Grapevine,

Laden with fruits and coveted by animals,

I call upon Huldra the Keeper of Flocks.

Shepherdess, goatherd, you who care for all

Under your wing and give them nourishment,

Help me to tread the fruits of my labor

That feed my own, and may my hands be generous.

May I keep them from devouring my Source

As the goats devour the vine, that those fruits

May fall for them again and again each year.



On the Moon of the Ivy,

Twisting as the World Serpent,

I call upon Gna the Messenger

Who reaches for the sky in her flight

On the arms of the wind, as the Ivy leaps

Skyward in strong oaken arms.

Lady, let me never ignore the whispered

Words of the Gods, and may my own prayers

Be carried swift and true into their hearts.



On the Moon of the Reed,

Wailing winds over the cold marshes,

I call upon Hlin the Lady of Mourning.

May I learn to mourn with a whole heart

That the sadnesses I bear will not fester within me

But may be released in their own time.

Help me to bury what must be buried

That it may bring fertility to the ground of my life.

Weep with me, Lady, and teach me to bear

The unbearable with grace and dignity.



On the Moon of the Elder,

Wisewoman of the Green World,

I call upon Vara the Prophetess.

May my future be revealed to me

In good time, in a way so clear

That I cannot mistake it for my own foolery.

Lady, guide me to my true path

Whatever and wherever that may be.

And help me to be wise enough to see it through.