Samhain

A poem in honor of the season

Photo by freestocks on Unsplash

It’s the part of the wheel when things start to close down

And shadows, dark, and the cold, come to rule

Like a fog sliding in, it envelopes the warmth

And fosters things quiet and cool

We have harvested memories, tallied success

From summer, when living was king

Things that started as visions on long winter’s nights

Expanded in the slow thaw of spring.

Spring is time of the Maiden, when new life and promises grow

Our minds are the gardens

Ideas planted like seeds

Waiting with anticipation

For summer to make real our dreams.

When the ground starts to soften

Our dreams set in motion,

Winter’s musings now turn to Spring’s plans

We soak up the sun buoyancy on those lengthening days

And use it as fuel to test out our new theories

We want to be out with the wind on our skin

Connecting with friends and with family

Capturing moments in pictures on phones

Of our feet connecting again with the land

Spring is a Maiden, so summer’s the Mother

Giving birth to our seedlings from spring

Moving from latent potential

To the full bloom realization of dreams

The role of the mother is well suited for summer

Making lists titled would, could, and should.

In the light of long days, we produce and preform

And enjoy all that we have acquired

The days start to condense, and the light starts to change

Recreation slows as the sun’s exuberance wanes

Shorter days, like grey hairs

Mark the passing of time

As summer slowly comes to a close

Autumn, the promised return of routine

When schedules replace improvisation

Days settle into a regular pace

The calendar now has a few empty spaces

Time we can use to harvest our memories

Created back in the long days of summer

Fall is an intuitive time of the year

The season of the Crone, or the Hag

The focus turns more towards remembering than doing

Looking back rather than further ahead

 Now past the heady potential of youth

And no longer craving others’ approval

Gone is the obligation to offer life bios

Or be concerned about what others may think

It’s true I do sense I have been here before

Photo by Ksenia Yakovleva on Unsplash

This is not my first carousel ride

I’ve had lives that were filled with the dreaming and doing

Of spring Maiden and summertime Bride

In wintertime I can ponder the lessons

From memories I’ve gathered so far

Perch myself by the stone of the old Hag of Beara,

Don the jeweled crusted crown of the Crone

I’m not bothered by wrinkles or white strands in my hair

Acquired with pride through the years

They attest to the storms I have weathered

And the hard lessons of youth I have gained

I just want to play the Wise Woman

Past the point of pretending to care

How the world defines worth or picks beauty

And maybe to honestly share

Any wisdom I’ve gleaned through the passing of years

But you’ll need a thick skin if you seek it

I won’t waste your time with sugar or lies

The truth will be told as I see it

In Irish they call her Cailleach

Which translates to “veiled one”

She lives in the Thin Place

Between here and the past

She’s the goddess of death in the winter,

And a stone near a Kilcatherine shore

Said to return to form ever Samhain

With the ancestors at All Hallows’ door

She reminds us, all that is gone is not lost

Death comes before springtime’s new births

Colorful leaves are discarded as their usefulness dies

Changing form to nourish the next cycles’ rise

I’ll celebrate this feast of Samhain

Inviting the shadows and cold

As guests to share tea by the fire

And ask them for stories of ‘auld

Tonight, I remember those who came before me

I honor the gifts they passed on

And appreciate the hardships endured to put roots

In the rocky soil that I so deeply love

Quickly sliding towards the end of the year

No longer needing Autumn’s harvesting tools

Used to collect memories from Summer and Spring

That were dreamt at the start of this wheel

We planted seeds in first months of the year

As New Year thawed, and life started to stir

They may have been wishes of what summer would bring

Maybe events that would nourish the soul

The solstice brings balance to both day and night

So rare it only takes place twice a year

Then the long days of winter start gathering light

The long nights will slowly disappear

Hibernation gives darkness

Where dreams can be planted

Hidden from anyone’s view

In the soul it begins germination

Waiting for the defrost to begin

When the new cycle starts over

And new life begins

So does excitement for what the new year users in.