The whispers of the Elder Futhark, etched in wood and stone,
A language older than the mountains, a power all its own.
Fehu, wealth and cattle thriving, Uruz, the primal strength,
Thurisaz, thorn of hardship, bringing trials at length.
Ansuz, the god's own wisdom, whispered on the breeze,
Raidho, the journey onward, through sunlit fields and trees.
Kenaz, the torch of knowledge, burning bright and clear,
Gebo, the gift of union, banishing all fear.
Wunjo, the joy of triumph, after struggles overcome,
Hagalaz, the hail's harsh fury, a destiny to come.
Nautiz, the need, the binding, that shapes the will's decree,
Isa, the ice that holds all, in frozen majesty.
Jera, the harvest season, the reaping of the yield,
Eihwaz, the yew tree's power, a shield on battlefield.
Pertho, the hidden mystery, the secrets yet untold,
Algiz, the elk's protection, a story to unfold.
Sowilo, the sun's bright glory, dispelling doubt and night,
Teiwaz, the god of justice, shining ever bright.
Berkana, the birch tree's promise, of growth and life anew,
Ehwaz, the horse's swiftness, the strength that sees us through.
Mannaz, the human spirit, its wisdom and its grace,
Laguz, the flowing waters, that shape the earthly space.
Ingwaz, the fertile power, of seed and fruitful ground,
Dagaz, the dawning daylight, where hope is always found.
Othala, the ancestral heritage, the lands we hold so dear,
These runes, a woven tapestry, of stories whispered low,
Of gods and men and destinies, where seeds of fate are sowed.
Their meanings, ever shifting, with every heart that sees,