Norns, your hands caked in clay, you whose hands sculpt and shape the bricks laid out before me. Maidens, look kindly upon me as I spin the tapestry of my life.
Urd, maiden of what was, release me from the pain of my past; the trauma and the hurt that wants so badly to leech joy from me. Pull the threads of the lessons I learned taut, so that I may build strength from heartache.
Verdandi, maiden of this moment, illuminate my path forward with your tender glow and piercing touch. Grant me the grace and patience I need to be true to my heart, and not to my hurt.
Skuld, future-maiden, treat me gently as I weave my fate. Guide my hand, guide me through the steps I must take. And when I reach the end of my weave, tie off the ends and hide them behind the clouds so that I may fly
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