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A Harvest-Time Prayer to Nerthus

Fruitful Mother, Devouring Mother
I hail You.
Eldest of all, Veiled and Mighty
I sing Your praise.

Terrifying and trembling,
awash in adoration,
I will lay my treasures before You.
With head bowed low
upon the earth that is Your gift
(and our obligation),
I whisper my prayers
Thinking of You
and of Your holy groves.

You sent Your family forth,
gifting the world of man
with the arts of civilization.
These things You and Yours have given.
These things we have received:

The skill of drawing sustenance from the sea
The skill of tilling the soil
Of planting
of bringing forth crops
the gift of the harvest
The crafts of the earth and clay: of throwing a pot and working a kiln
Of building
Of reading the weather
The yoking of animals
Stewardship of the land
Burial of the dead
The merit of sacrifice
The terror of mystery

For these things, we are grateful.
For these things we shall always remember:

Prayers to You, oh Nerthus,
Ancient and wise.
Prayers to the Mother.
Be Thou always honored.

Kira R.

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