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.