Odin Lives!
In the eye of the cyclone.
In the wheel of the sky.
Where the spear of thought penetrates matter.

Wherever a rune is carved and cast.
Between the secret whispered – and the secret heard.
Beaneath a broad-brimmed hat in the sacred oak groves shade.

Beside the oaken gallows – awaiting the hanged souls release.
Beside the lonesome traveler – patron of the free.
In the mead that frees the instincts from the bondage of the mind.

Where the swords sing their blood-song.
Among his sons and daughters – in the region of their genes.
In the skalds song before it yet is sung.

- Robert Taylor