Tiewaz is the letter T
Anglo-Saxon Rune Poem (from ragweedforge.com)
Tiewaz is a guiding star; well does it keep faith with princes;
it is ever on its course over the mists of night and never fails
The dark moon comes with us this Monday, and today feels weird, or at least it felt weird this morning, moving into meditation. Of course, what occurs to me is the idea that the moon is being eaten by some cosmic beast, a wolf or a dragon that slowly devours the night candle, only to have it be reborn again, some how. In thinking about Tyr, I think of Fenris, and that somehow if he had gotten out, he would have devoured the moon, but perhaps the moon would have survived. The moon causes me to think again of the swastika, to think of the swastika as this celestial power, perhaps lightning or the sun wheel, or even the moon, identified by it’s turning and changing, over it’s 28 day cycle. A cycle where it is devoured, only to return again, a thin crescent that sheds just a glimmer of blue-silver light across the earth at night, which growns in strength, only to fade again, and be consumed by the wolf. Here I am in the belly of the beast, fully eaten, not a lick of morsel left that can sparkly or shine, and yet in these digesting depths the acids and bile are working a biological alchemy. Breaking down and perhaps emerge renewed, or at least to start as the prima material, so that the patterning, the weaving of who and what I am can be changed.