I had a dream last night that the Old Man gave me three runes–sowilo, ingwaz, and hagalaz–in that order.
Here’s what the rune poems have to say, when they have anything to say:
Old Norwegian Rune Poem
Sun is the light of the world;
I bow to the divine decree.
Old Icelandic Rune Poem
Sun is the shield of the clouds
and shining ray
and destroyer of ice.
Anglo-Saxon Rune Poem
The sun is ever a joy in the hopes of seafarers
when they journey away over the fishes’ bath,
until the courser of the deep bears them to land.
Ingwaz–The god Ing, later called Frey
Old English Runic Poem
Ing was first amidst the East Danes
so seen, until he went eastward
over the sea. His wagon ran after.
Thus the Heardings named that hero.
Hail is the coldest of grain;
Christ created the world of old.
Hail is cold grain
and shower of sleet
and sickness of serpents.
Hail is the whitest of grain;
it is whirled from the vault of heaven
and is tossed about by gusts of wind
and then it melts into water.
I have no interpretation, but I’m interested to see what we think in a year. Travel? Over some water? More bad weather? Who knows? I should learn more about the runes I guess.