Nov 2, 2015

Midwinter… the True Meaning of Rebirth

via Odinia International

Editor’s Note: This incredibly beautiful, and true,  poem by Ingiomar, speaks of the hope of a spring for our people, even in the darkest winter. I know I am publishing this at a moment when at least the season of spring, if not the spring of our race, has arrived for those of us in the Northern hemisphere, but this wonderful poem is timeless. May the wish in the heart of the great soul who composed this masterpiece, soon be made real.
Sometimes in the blackest night, the stars shine the most brightly. We must imagine the future we seek and make sure our people find the way to light again... (Editor's Comment)
Sometimes in the blackest night, the stars shine the most brightly. We must imagine the future we seek and make sure our people find the way to light again. (Editor’s Comment)


Long have our heroes left this spiteful world
For greater struggles yet to come;
Their last spear in defiance hurled
At the dying sun.
In this, the deep midwinter of our race,
When blood of titans stains the land,
We lesser men must take their place
And ‘gainst the darkness stand.
Hurling the Spear.... Let us find the courage to emulate the defiance of our Ancestors, the Gods, and win victory and freedom...  (Editor's Comment)
Hurling the Spear…. Let us find the courage to emulate the defiance of our Ancestors, the Gods, and win victory and freedom.
Our fathers were the masters of this earth,
But ‘gainst the shackles of the mind
That hold their children helpless serfs,
We stand a thin white line.
When craven cowards will not heed the call,
And traitors turn their coats for gold,
We few must stand against them all,
And finally break their hold.

What Men were these heroes, our Ancestors, who moved heaven and earth with the strength of their love, the force of  their will, and the purity of their spirit? May we see their like again... (Editor's Comment)
What Men were these heroes, our Ancestors, who moved heaven and earth with the strength of their love, the force of their will, and the purity of their spirit? May we see their like again.

Our serpent foe yet revels in his might,
His every thought to our demise.
Yet morning follows ever night,
And our sun will rise.

The world can yet be a golden thing, if we make it so. (Editor's Comment)
The world can yet be a golden thing, if we make it so.

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