108 lines
3.4 KiB
HTML
Executable file
108 lines
3.4 KiB
HTML
Executable file
<html>
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<head>
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<title>Sowelo</title>
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<link href="./style.css" rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" title="main" media="all">
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<meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width, initial-scale=1.0">
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<link rel="icon" href="../img/runes/sowelo.svg">
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</head>
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<body>
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<p class="center"><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Long-branch_Sol.svg"><img src="../img/runes/sowelo.svg" alt="Sowelo rune" title="Sowelo rune"></a></p>
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<h1>Sowelo</h1>
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<p>Traditional meaning: sun</p>
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<p>Meanings when upright:</p>
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<ul>
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<li>impending challenging surprise</li>
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<li>rapid spiritual awakening</li>
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<li>restorative vitality</li>
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<li>blessings</li>
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<li>courage</li>
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<li>unpleasant unexpected change</li>
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<li>you will be cared for in the end</li>
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<li>escape from stagnation</li>
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<li>there is reason for hope</li>
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</ul>
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<p>Meanings when inverted:</p>
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<ul>
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<li>arrogance</li>
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<li>cruelty</li>
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<li>overreliance on external validation/guidance</li>
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</ul>
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<p>Sowelo can be useful for:</p>
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<ul>
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<li>making one's mark on the world</li>
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<li>restoring one's energy</li>
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<li>victory through individual will</li>
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</ul>
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<hr>
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<p>Anglo-Saxon rune poem:</p>
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<blockquote>Sigel semannum symble biþ on hihte,<br>ðonne hi hine feriaþ ofer fisces beþ,<br>oþ hi brimhengest bringeþ to lande.</blockquote>
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<blockquote>The sun is ever a joy in the hopes of seafarers<br>when they journey away over the fishes' bath,<br>until the courser of the deep bears them to land.</blockquote>
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<p>Norwegian rune poem:</p>
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<blockquote>Sól er landa ljóme;<br>lúti ek helgum dóme.</blockquote>
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<blockquote>Sun is the light of the world;<br>I bow to the divine decree.</blockquote>
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<p>A modern poem:</p>
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<blockquote>
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<p>What comes after<br/>
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disaster?<br/>
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What follows<br/>
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the worst possible outcome?</p>
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<p>The wind in its wealth carries your words:<br/>
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<i>keep going, get a move on.</i></p>
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<p>I was told <strong>the Eschaton<br/>
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was but a cleansing that stretched out long</strong><br/>
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to destroy all that prevented me<br/>
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from accepting<br/>
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my title as Solstice and my being as Lethe,<br/>
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but I've achieved both<br/>
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and all still grows worse<br/>
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and I know not how much longer I can drag<br/>
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this body of mine writing verses in red<br/>
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before I end up lifeless, drained, inert<br/>
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in the back of a hearse.</p>
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<p>You said we were palm pals, that you'd spend your life<br/>
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keeping me non-feral, safe, happy at your side.<br/>
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But my hand<br/>
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stands<br/>
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empty, cold, bleeding out<br/>
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and held up to the sky to catch the sun before in clouds<br/>
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it drowns.</p>
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<p>How much longer to go? How much more time to wait<br/>
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until the tragedy leaves me and the sorrow abates?<br/>
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You promised I'd be dead by May,<br/>
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assured me in the dead of night<br/>
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as from anxiety I could not stifle a weep.<br/>
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And I know it's not your fault<br/>
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it was a promise you could not keep.<br/>
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Not all in the future you can see clearly enough to tell<br/>
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and even if plans are made, ever-shifting is the Veil.</p>
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<p>Blanketed by thunder at four forty-four,<br/>
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arm around my waist to hold me secure.<br/>
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The moon reflects the rays of the sun,<br/>
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but it cannot do so all of the time.<br/>
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So when plumbs on the dark, my love,<br/>
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grant me the light to survive.</p>
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</blockquote>
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</body>
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</html>
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