A Gathering for Samhain!

With the disturbance of the swinging gate – we step into the day,
The Green Woodpecker stirs and makes his exit – eastward on his way,
Bigger than his ‘great’ spotted cousin – that has shown his face before,
Moving off with a slow precision – with a bobbing flight for sure!

With articles and provisions we enter – preparation in due course,
An honouring in the gift of welcome – dedication at its source,
Fitting with the comfort like a velvet glove – it’s off to see the stones,
With the recent rains they sit and settle – I can feel it in my bones!

With the lighting of the entrance Lanterns – a reception is prepared,
The sweet vanilla tastes the air – as the flaming is declared,
Slow is assured for the great ensemble – detail to an attentive scale,
The biting wind it nips at the edges – through the trees and on the trail!

A single call of the gliding Buzzard – from on high in the blue of the sky,
The cloudless view – lifts the heart anew – between horizons on the fly,
The Crows defy the secret of the silence – with random croaks and calls,
Blown away by the tide of the elements – where the volume rise and falls!

Arrival smiles with the books of learning – shared by one and all,
The soft drumming of a gentle heartbeat – reaching out its call,
The north-west greets the rising Kestrel – a view to stop and share,
Performance art to thrill the masses – with the joy of being there!

With igniting fires in a blaze of smoke – the smoulder builds a flame,
The Central – the Altar and the Samhain gate – 3 fires in Samhain’s name,
With the pre-prepared a plan of action – the incense comes to be,
We set the stage and dress for comfort – the kindred as we see!

With the chiming of the gong we snake our way – to the heartbeat of the drum,
The wind it drops with the calling of the spirit – for all that is to come,
Turning the circle we follow our cycle – one by one we come to rest,
Where connection finds its understanding – beating from the chest!

With our roots we bonded with our grounding – standing with the Trees,
With a toast of Mead to the stones of foundation – we surrendered to our ease,
We shared in the connection with our Ancestors – getting personal for a while,
A word to the wise – an invitation to a celebration – and doing it in style!

A Crow for a guardian in the south – in the dead branches of a Tree,
The watcher of a guided motion – where the Sun it gets to see,
There’s a chorus of pheasants from roundabout – a descant to the ear,
A volley of calls to repeat and fade – each one sounding crystal clear!

We found the chance to count our blessings – gathered around the fire,
The gift of actions – thoughts and feelings – the gift of our desire,
I shared with ‘The Turning Leaves of Autumn!’ – sweeping out the dust,
Clearing the pathway to new beginnings – the cleansing is a must!

We are moved to plant the twins of Elder – either side of the Samhain bed,
A new beginning formed with re-generation – in honour words are said,
A connection formed with the spirit of the Ancestors – connecting with the earth,
With knowledge shared as dusk approaches – the gift of life and what it’s worth!

We honour our journey upon the outer path – the living spiral of our time,
A walkway telling tales of re-awaking – with the Sun-wheel in its prime,
We move through the winter with the full Moon shining – rising early in her grace,
Framed in the vision of the Moon Garden – with pride she takes her place!

On through the spring toward the Hawthorn Tree – where the circle leaves the stream,
A view from the gallery at the height of summer – where we take the time to dream,
Around to autumn and the Apple Trees – where we circulate the pond,
We join with the pathway of our entrance – where the spiral forms a bond!

The closing comes and slowly passes – with the fading of the light,
The fires settle and glow their embers – with the lanterns burning bright,
We share in the gift of the Yew branches – sharing out the Mead,
Recounting tales and sharing thoughts – with nothing left to read!

As the crowds disperse and the Owls are calling – when darkness takes its fall,
The moonlight climbs the height of the Willow – enlightening one and all,
In swathes of white the evening packs its bags – the tide and its return,
The scene is cleared with friends departed – with the lanterns left to burn!

oOo