Tailtiu labored ’till
Her deathly flight…
Indeed…
Lugh acknowledged
His mother’s toil…
So too, then,
Lughnasadh requires our moil…
While we celebrate Her Sacrifice
With games and flame…
(For this bounty of the year
demands our acclaim…)
We must remember the sacrifice shared…
And in sharing our gifts
Prepare to be bared…
Knowing…
Cernunnos calls
to begin The Hunt…
To gather meat
for winter’s drought…
For in the dark
Of this lessening hour
We spend our strength
While preparing our power…
As The Great Lord wanes,
And The Lady’s soon to sleep…
May The Harvest and the Hunt
Flaunt in Full Vitality…
For the Cycle of Life
Spiraling ’round and ’round
Envelops Infinity
(If we choose to be bound…)
And while we hold choice
To choose as We Will
Awakened or No…
Tis…
Our Path to Fulfill…
(An’ ol’ bent Crom Dubh delights
In gathering his own…
From ubiquitous planting-
So I am told…)
© 2014 Raven Wynn
A former teacher, minister, alcohol/drug and family counselor, Raven now focuses his attention and energy on writing poetry, hand sewing leather journals, crafting feather quill dip pens, and naturescape/infrared photography. Living in a small town on the banks of a quiet river with Majíi, a Siamese cat, Raven experiences life through a (pre)-celtic animistic cosmology celebrating our sacred individuality within the oneness of all.