I remember the words of my Elder:

Each telling you are creating the World anew.

Words have power, raw magic, refined magic

However they slide up the throat along

the shuddering chords

They seize ahold of us through the ears, the eyes

hold us because through them

we hold You, us, Worlds, Ancestors, vaettir

The whole body hears and feels

The cold pit in the stomach, the sweat on the brow, the widened eyes, fear,

The heat, creased forehead, gritted teeth, rage

Words crush the soul

Revive a religion

End lives

Join us to one another

Heal us

Make us

Tribe

Family

Connection

Death

Life

Balance

Fire

Ice

Ginunngagap

The telling creates the Worlds anew.