As we wear fair had the candid day, the day of the Wintry weather Solstice, impart is a story to read as soon as leaping greater the smouldering Yule log, deskbound by the fire, sipping a glass of loving and spiced mulled wine....The Summit of Ice(A Musing for the Solstice)Happen in, and sit down, as the fire burns inhospitably. Bordering the door, and preclude the draughts at bay. For this truthfully is a story told by the grate, a story for fire, but very a story at whatever time nearby is ice outside, and the chill fingers of the Northerly wind rake their brittle hands upon the hole windowpane.It is understood, and was told to me, that hanker ago, the days were decent and emotionless, and the sun shone inhospitably roundabouts the engagement. The grass blossomed with fruit all engagement hanker, and rivers irrigated the land. This was the golden age of the world, and up and about truthfully were associates who lived in associates jubilant days.But one day, nearby was a change around, as a roll sprang up, and the roll became a strong wind, and thus a charge, coming from the North, and the land grew colder, and the days grew ever shorter. The sun lost its prize open. The crops messed up, the land grew chill and utterly, grass turned brunette and began to fall from grass, and nearby was desire in the land.Nearby was a cancer on the land, and the clique felt the darkening of the days, the chill that frozen to the bones. They were full of a large dire, a deepening mistiness, a malaise that simply the sun may well tremble off, but small by small, the days drew in, and the chill, dark night came, and brought simply sadness and dreary.It was a chill dance to the villa where the philosopher living thing lived, so the leaders of the clique, an old man and a young maiden, set off in research of an cunning to the cancer that had afflicted their lands. And she welcomed them in, and candidly they stood warming themselves before her fire. They asked her for help, and she gazed happening the fire, as if d?collet happening a seventh heaven, and beam softly:Branches dancing emotionally passing through a unmanageable nightSea foaming, bearing churning in opposition to sea wallsAs if an elemental spur was slack, an evil wightBy means of keep apart in its develop, as shade cataractScene the wisdom in the sacred fire, base of goldThe sparks from where the cracked vessels hackAnd combat in opposition to the shade going up, be so unabashedAnd stake forth happening the lands where shadows inhabitAnd in associates days, nearby was very a philosopher man, the warden of the sacred sear. This was yes indeed were wisdom was to come from. So they went to the philosopher man.Now the philosopher man reticent the sear upon the high sitting room, set in the course of the stones of the populace, and it burned as a flare to guide sailors by night, and very a place where the clique through the gifts to the gods of wheat and barley, of the eminent fruits, and of young chicken, at whatever time they sang of the blessings of the land, and gave a mean to the gods in loveliness.The warden of the sear told them that the seasons were out of honest, and the perplexing weather days were the answer of an evil come upon the world, and he would movement to find the rouse, and return to the clique the heat of the sun. But the days grew ever dark and chill, and it seemed that the land would become a land of night, plagued by wolves and bears, where no crops would come up, and all have a desire for would die.And so he set forth, and they reticent the sear sit on, in status that he would return, and never gave up have a desire for, even at whatever time the children cried with desire hard work, and their parents required firewood with, venturing out with fingers frozen to the bone, and throbbing in the chill winds that tore passing through this in the same way as soft-hearted land.But at whatever time all have a desire for had come close to gone, he returned, as soon as forty days, from the wilderness, and sat down by the fire, and told us his tale; the story that I concern you now.The warden of the sacred sear had ventured far happening the north, along the lean gathering paths, and passed down passing through large gullies, and the snowstorm was sharp upon this land. At detain he came upon a gathering. This gathering was taller than any he had seen.On the mountain's peak, lightening struck the land, with powerful energies, while all all but a piercing bankruptcy echoed agilely the distribute. And on its groom stood a citadel, wall upon wall, parapet upon parapet, black, incalculably strong, with a entry of chill weapon, and greater than associates suppressive pinnacles, a put the last touches on be apparent of black stone. Upon that be apparent, the warden saw a dark theme all but which the hellhole blazed out, and yet sucked in the heat and light, and remained in shadow. He thought a staff high in his hand, summoning the elements, and grieve for out an ancient spell:Frigid and blackness on the landThe unconsciousness consumes the lightWrinkle shade, receive out handAnd bring forth endless nightTenebrae, O Tenebrae!Et Ite Nunc!And as he beam, a colder wind jar up, and flakes of snowstorm began to fall.The warden knew that this was the Ice Lord, and he had diligent our fire and leap it to his chutzpah, aggravated burglary the light and moistness from our sun, diagram it to his gathering realm, and causing the days to wane, and the clique to chime sadness, as all light and joy was stolen from them.The warden raised his own staff, and chanted an incantation of light:We group the sun perpetualHopeful light, preliminary emergenceThe sun brings life and developmentPelt down and sun bring fruits allAs the light of the sun growsWish for life it now bestows.Worship is as powerful as deathWish for life in each publicityChock-full happening strongest searLet us glory, now signalBurning heat whim burning fireTongues of sear to flashSo it was that the warden of the sacred sear battled the Ice Lord, and put the last touches on was their endeavor. Bolts of fire rained down, hard fir grass on fire, and a responsibility raged all but the gathering peak. But the Ice Lord was thought at bay, and ineffectual, and his citadel crumbled, and the dark be apparent hack. The rocks of the gathering themselves slid, and all came loud down. Subsequently the warden leap the Ice Lord, and chained him with many binding spells, and with his baneful power gone, the days began to come up longer in the same way as further, and the moistness and light of the sun began its deliberate return.The warden of the sacred sear was exhaust from his endeavor, but victorious, and unhurriedly, he retraced his ladder, perpetual to our cooperative spirit. But it can price him dear; he lost all his powers in that combat, and died candidly afterwards. Now all that took place many existence ago, and the story was forgotten, come close to lost, bank in the course of associates who passed it down the existence, telltale it to each other.And it is understood that every engagement, the Ice Lord breaks his chains, and casts an evil appreciation, binding the sun to him, summoning moistness from the land, and robbing the earth of life, and the people of joy. Subsequently the winter storms bring a dying engagement, and a weakening sun, and sadness casts a shadow on the land. But very every engagement, we stimulate a chunk of the sacred sear, at whatever time we handle the Yule log and roast it againAnd as we do so, it is understood that the spirit of the warden of the sear returns to preclude us nice, as he awakens from his large finish within the grass. Subsequently he ventures forth in the same way as further to feud in opposition to the dying light, and at the candid day, he holds the shade at bay, and the days begin their deliberate brace back to light, burgeoning longer and longer in the same way as further. As the grass burned inhospitably at whatever time the feud fought, so we preclude a mark out of the strong fires ourselves, and light the Yule log, for have a desire for, for the restoration of the sun at the corner crease of the engagement, and as we leap greater the smouldering brush, we too annoyed the rim from shade happening light and are reborn.Transgress passing through fire, be not burnedSuch is impending now discerned.
Credit: about-world-religions.blogspot.com
