Showing posts with label a poem for Samhain. Show all posts
Showing posts with label a poem for Samhain. Show all posts

Saturday 31 October 2015

Awakenings ( a poem for Samhein, Jane and Shaker Aamer)



 ( a poem for Samhein, Jane, and Shaker Aamer)

Today after waking early,
I noticed the trees of life,
natures guardians with deep roots,
watchers of time and presence,   
as I carry feelings of  love,
raptured  forms of ecstasy,
that are not illegal to possess.

I cross a bridge in Aberteifi,
no longer does its river,
entice me to plunge into its depths,
today a day  of celebration,
as the veil between the worlds of life and 
                                                     death lift.

I will travel soon. to see my beloved,
gentle soul, beautiful companion,
currently stuck in hospital in West Wales,
as I remember the dead,  still look after the living,
as precious petals cast away doubt,
on this spinning whirling day of divination.

As Hecate Queen of the witches,
walks with Persephone,
deep in the underworld,
above ground,
I drift in this world,
of light and air.

I walk with beauty,
she draws me close,
from afar,
two heartbeats ,
of companionship,
journeying  together,
side by side in unity.

And today I rejoice for another reason,
Shaker Aamer the last British resident,
of Guantanamo Bay  prison camp,
has been set free, home again where he belongs,
so today is also a good  day for justice and freedom,
a time of jubilation as innocent hearts smile,
hope exists on this  earth, so blessed be, blessed be,

Thursday 31 October 2013

The Presence





Today marks Halloween, Samhain, All Hallows, All Saints or Winters Eve,The Festival of the Dead. There are several explanations for its origin, one being the Roman festival of the dead 'Parentalia', but another origin, not necessarily exclusive from the Roman one, is from the ancient Celtic old day of Samhein (sa-wain). and most of the traditions that we celebrate on Halloween have its origins in Celtic/Gaelic Culture.
Samhein, which means November in Irish, was the end of summer and the harvest season in the Celtic calender. It was the last great feast held outdoors before the cold months to come. The last night of October also marked the ancient Celts New Years Eve. Marking the end of the summer and the beginning of Winter.
The Celts  believed that on Samhein, the veil between the living and the dead was dropped for one day, and the spirits of the living could intermingle with the spirits of the dead. The spirits that could now cross into the land of the kiving were dangerous, and often played tricks both playful and malevolent on theliving. In an effort to stop those spirits from meddling with the dead and playing tricks on them, the living would dress up in costumes and  masks in order to fool the spirits into thinking that they were one of them. This is where the idea of trick and treating comes from.
It was I guess the Christian religion  that replaced the early origins with it's own traditions and celebrations  with Pope Gregory 11 moving the christian holiday of 'all hollows Eve' from May 13th to November 1st  to coincide with the feast of Samhein, to downplay the festivals pagan roots, but in many parts of the world on this night special cakes and food are prepared for the dead and remember departed loved ones.
Over the years we have ended up with the modern commercialised, corporate version that is now known as halloween. But Samhein and its energy has bever fully died out and still burns bright.
The following is a poem that I have composed to mark the occasion. Happy Samhein have a magical time.


The Presence

There was a sprinke of magic  in the air,
drifting on a pitch black night,
as the wind hummed and cried,
bending and twisting,
its shadows and shapes.

We heard a knock,
rattling on the door,
we  slipped outside,
into the dark,
but no one was there,
just a cigarette,
smouldering on fallen autumn leaves.

A gust rose up,
a lost soul perhaps?
looking for shelter,
then we heard a primeaval roar,
its siren releasing,
an enticing whistle,
that connected us,
to the evenings presence,
peculiar figments,
poking at logic.

But we'd had enough of trickery,
it was getting to late to fathom,
we kissed goodnight,
sailed upstairs,
to the other side of the moon,
where we concealed our mysteries,
buried our illusion,
beyond the dance of spirits,
whirling through the cosmos.