Göndul’s Call

July 12, 2026 · Pagan Prayers

Göndul, wand-wise, spear-bright,

riding the edge of the coming night —

weaver of war on the loom of fate,

chooser of slain at the shield-wall’s gate:

Let frith be found where fury grows;

let steady courage cool my blows.

Bind my tongue from reckless ire;

temper my will in oath-forged fire.

Show me the thread I must not sever,

the step that saves, the strength that’s clever.

Shield my kin and steady me —

Göndul, guide what comes to be.

By rune and breath, by storm and still,

lend me your sight to shape my will:

not for ruin, not for spite —

for truth, for guard, to end this fight.