Praise the Gods

Cailleach of frost, Cailleach of stone,

Ancient One upon your throne.

Wind and silence, cloud and snow,

Teach us what the wise ones know.

Death is not the enemy — it is a teacher.

Stillness is not emptiness — it is becoming.

Staff of ice, and crown of storms,

You shape the land in sleeping forms.

Your breath is cold, your heart is deep,

You guard the world in sacred sleep.

Death is not the enemy — it is a teacher.

Stillness is not emptiness — it is becoming.

You strike the hills, the rivers cease,

Yet all beneath is held in peace.

The seed still dreams, the roots still cling,

Awaiting light, awaiting spring.

Death is not the enemy — it is a teacher.

Stillness is not emptiness — it is becoming.

Cailleach of stone, Cailleach of years,

Teach us the strength to face our fears.

Grant us patience, steady and true,

That we may be remade anew.

Death is not the enemy — it is a teacher.

Stillness is not emptiness — it is becoming.

In your silence, we are remade.

In your darkness, life begins again.

-Raysdottir