This week, under the full moon, working with my drum and rattle, as the sun set, and the moon rose, I chanted a galdralag, from the runes I pulled sat on the Bronze Age barrow where I do much of my drum work. Galdralags are old Norse spell-songs that bind intention to sound, meaning to magic. These were incantations to be spoken and chanted.
Galdralag (literally "spell-meter") represents one of the most fascinating combinations of literature and magic in the Norse tradition. Unlike the courtly praise poems or epic sagas, they were tools of transformation, employing strict alliterative patterns, repetitive structures, and rhythmic cadences designed to focus the mind and channel will into manifestation.
As we rediscover the power of intentional language and the magic inherent in well-crafted words, galdralag offers us a bridge between ancient and contemporary practice. Whether we follow the traditional formulaic structures or adapt them to modern sensibilities, these spell-songs remind us that poetry has always been, at its core, an act of creation—a way of speaking new realities into being.
Here are two versions of the galdralag based on the full moon runes that came forward as I drummed:
Red thread binding
Thurisaz • Ansuz • Dagaz
Three times round the red thread wound
Taking root within me
Aching limbs and ashen face
Apples fallen to the ground
Dancer breaks from duty's bound
Into freedom newly found
Thrice I thread the thorn-red rope,
Thrice I twist the binding tight,
Thrice I turn the wheel of flow
Thurisaz, thy chaotic flight.
Ansuz, ancient, answer me,
Ansuz, opener of ways,
Ansuz, unlock what must be
Break the bonds of biting days.
Dagaz dawning, darkness dies,
Dagaz dancing, duty done,
Dagaz rising, freedom flies
By thy light, the work is won.
My work with drum, rattle, and voice continued at the weekend as I met up with my dear friend Fi, who I first encountered in Colombia during our February retreat. We brought the drums and rattles we had crafted together on the journey, travelling to Chiddingstone, an ancient village near Tonbridge where we began our day rowing down the river by the Norman castle (built by a branch of my noble Norman Viking De Clare family lineage). Our sound session on the limestone rock proved powerful, a visceral reminder to keep using these sacred tools as deep relaxation techniques. There's something magical about reconnecting with instruments forged in ceremony, practising on this doubly ancestral land, where both my paternal great-grandfather’s Welfare ancestors and the Norman De Clare lineage converge, close to where Fi grew up, and where stone and water amplify both sound and intention.
I also thoroughly enjoyed getting back in the saddle, on a beautiful former dressage mount called Joker. A gentle and sensitive horse, he is a wonderful ride, and I look forward to more hacks together on the South Downs.
Wishing you a wonderful week ahead
All my love
Serena xxx