Uller's son, I am called,
By the shave pates, Steven,
Overlong they held me,
They hold my Blood kin still.
One of their scholar-priests
Taught more than Church would want,
Of Life beyond this Life,
From Past, to Now, and On.
He spoke of Heart and Mind,
Of Honor, Word and Deed,
He set my Thoughts awing,
To find what Church had hid.
I stayed inside the fold,
A dog becoming Wolf,
There came the day I left,
Alone and without Troth.
My steps ranged far and wide,
Through Dark and Light I trod,
Crossing In and Uten Gards,
I sought for Faith and Truth.
A wizard, then a witch,
Magician and adept,
Agnostic, deist, Zen,
Pantheist, then, myself.
To hills and woods I came,
A bluff above a lea,
A little hut was raised,
By six in friendship built.
With purpose clearly set,
An inner vision shared,
A time of cleansing thought,
In sweat lodge hot and dim.
I closed my eyes and strode
Beyond Midgard that night,
To skin clad hunting lodge,
A guest by fireside.
A huntsman studied me,
I returned gaze for gaze,
His eyes sought mine and held,
He nodded, smile gave.
Again I sat with friends,
In hut now cold and dark,
We went out under sky,
For torch lit blessing rite.
Those friends have gone their way,
As I have traveled mine,
To find the hunter's name,
And earn the smile's Worth.
My footsteps headed North,
My Kinlore to explore,
To follow bowman's path,
To find from whence he came.
My grasp of Kinlore grew,
I came to know Bow God,
His Holy Kin and Kith,
And words of Wisdom fair.
The Yew Lord spoke no words,
I heard Him anyway,
A Worthy Life to Live,
Upon the Middle Earth.
By Honor, Word and Deed,
By Host Frith and by Strength,
By Holy Uller's Ring,
A Man of Troth at last.
Recommended reading (pdf e-books):
James Allen Chisholm - The Eddas The Keys To The Mysteries Of The NorthEmilie Kip Baker - Stories From Northern Myths
Anthony Arndt - Asatru The Northern Way
