Canticles of Kynareth

O Kynareth, see me kneel:

For I walk only where You have laid seed.

Stand only in places You have blessed.

Sing only the Songs found in your creation.

O Kynareth, guide my path.

Show me the bounty of your gifts.

Teach me to spread your blessings amongst the land.

Let me be the hand that tends your garden.

—Canticles of Kynareth, 2:2–3

I am the wind on the sea

I am the wind on the sea;

I am the ocean wave;

I am the sound of the billows;

I am the seven-horned stag;

I am the hawk on the cliff;

I am the dewdrop in sunlight;

I am the fairest of flowers;

I am the raging boar;

I am the salmon in the deep pool;

I am the lake on the plain;

I am the meaning of the poem;

I am the point of the spear;

Who levels the mountain o'er the years?

Who speaks the ages of the moons?

Who has been where the sun sleeps?

Who, if not I?

—Canticles of Kynareth, 7:1–8

Kynareth, Mother of storms

Kynareth, Mother of storms,

The wind is your breath and the rain is your tears.

The sunshine is your love and the soil is your words.

I am a leaf on your wind.

Let me find purchase in a barren land

Let me be the seed of a new beginning.

Let your rain quench me.

Let your soil nourish me.

Let me blossom in your warm sunshine.

Let your words become my deeds.

Let my deeds be a force of change in your name."

—Canticles of Kynareth, 11:1–6

Canticle of the Elements

Kynareth, we praise You in the Air,

the cloud that shades, the wind that guides.

Through it You carry Creation’s Song.

Kynareth, we praise you in the Water,

useful, humble, precious, and pure.

Through it You mourn the Missing Sibling.

Kynareth, we praise you in the Fire,

beautiful, cheerful, playful, and powerful.

Through it You brighten the darkest night.

Kynareth, we praise you in the Stone,

the foundation of cities, the source of wealth.

Through it You give us the means to make.

—Canticles of Kynareth, 1:9–12

Who shall hear the voice of the wind?

Who shall hear the voice of the wind?

Its beauty resplendent, unseen, intangible,

Its tongue whispers the oath,

‘I move, I carry.

    Always will I fly

        and always will I change.

            For nothing is permanent.

                Nothing escapes my grasp.’

Who shall call the heart of the wind?

It travels swiftly, fiercely, untouchable,

Its fist howls the promise,

                ‘I push, I break.

            Never will I stop

        And never will I land.

    All is in my domain

And all bend to my will.’

Who shall resist the force of the wind?

Its anger presses, pushes, drives,

And the tree answers its call,

            ‘Yes.

        Your voice is

    loud. Your name is

    grand. Your force is

    mighty. I shall not

        resist. I will not

            defy.

            I will

            bend.

            Your

power shall wash over me.

You want me to bow. I will

bow. But I will always stand.

I    will    always    return.

I    will    always    recover.

That is my pledge. That is my promise. That is my oath.’

—Canticles of Kynareth, 8:1–4

The Strength of Storms

Even when the storm rages,

even when the lightning strikes,

all we have left is what is inside of us.

We must hold on to each other with all of our might.

As the tides and oceans create new directions,

we must heed the Goddess, and follow her moves,

trust in her motives, her will, her way,

for her rain will bring the new.

Because when we are on the cusp,

and we feel like one might lose hope.

We have to remember to feel,

to let the elements heal.

We have to love what is hard,

to rise above the darkness.

We must scream, shed the tears,

take the time to cross the fire!

Let the winds and fortune of Kynareth bring life!

Let the rain of Kynareth birth new lands,

Protect her, and honor her,

for honor with her is honor with ourselves,

and the Eight for life times to come.

—Canticles of Kynareth, 8:9–12

Inside of me

In the deadliest of time, my love tells me,

that it was the wind all along inside me that I couldn't see.

The Goddess created what was in the end and the beginning,

leaves of green that would keep Nirn spinning.

Around her beautiful fingers came the vines of life.

The grass, the trees, the dirt, the animals, within the flow of time.

Then came what was to be, the Goddess of Nature,

Kynareth created what was meant to be cradled.

But she knew all along that it was not what we were born with,

for it is what we do with her gift of nature that determines our worth.

It is what we do with the gift after the beginning,

her warm embrace, strong, courageous, and loving.

And if I can see the gift in another of what can be,

that then the wind, and her gift, all along has been inside of me.

—Canticles of Kynareth, 9:6–9

For the goldfinches

Oh do you have time

to linger for just a little while

out of your busy and important day?

For the goldfinches, of course,

have gathered in a field of thistles

for a musical battle to see who can sing

the highest or lowest note

or the most expressive of mirth.

They strive melodiously not for us

but for the delight and gratitude of

just being alive on this day.

I beg you that you do not walk by

Without pausing to attend to this.

Kynareth’s great bounty and the love within this.

—Canticles of Kynareth, 9:15–18

A Song for the Sky