The autumn equinox is fast upon us – the time when the balance tips from the light half of the year to the dark half. Daylight hours are on the wane and soon the night and twilight hours will take precedence, allowing us a time for rest, for thought and for reflection....
Veil of soft embrace.
Your light reflects the
Pools of wisdom and grace
As illusion's cunning
Mirror cloaks the knowledge
Of inner flood gates.
Filter and flow of celestial sight
As velvet darkness parts the way
Of expansive breath and I tremble
Bowing to your Path of Surrender.
The veil parts
The portal opens
And ALL stand waiting
In anticipation of your
I walk silently down the wrought iron stairway and into my back yard, out into the moonlit night. Noise comes crowding in and I breathe deeply pushing out what seeks to intrude. Lady moon hangs high overhead and the silhouette of tree and plant crowd my view. This is the night of the moon's fullness. This is the expansion of breath and air, mind and heart flowing as one.
I walk to the sacred spot that has received the offerings of many a moonlit night and has witnessed my honoring of the seasons. My hand is warm from the herbs of energy that I carry as offering this night, empowered and quickened in ritual with coven mates two nights before. The potency of their intent moving like tidal flow and peak ready to be carried on the winds that will seed transformation....
It’s December first…. The symbolic beginning of the winter season, at least in terms of our modern calendar. It is, above all else, the beginning of a season of light.
But why light, we may ask? Why thoughts of light right now, when the days are so short and the nights long and cold? Why thoughts of light at a time of year when the land is muddy and skeletal, when cold rains fall and winds gust and one must bundle against the ice and snow?
Imagine yourself as a Stone Age person living more than two millennia ago. You would have spent your life living subsistence fashion, and when winter came, you and the tribe would have taken to a nearby cave to huddle against the cold, working by firelight and living off the provisions you’d managed to gather and store during the kinder summer months. You’d nourish yourself with soups and teas, sharing stories around the fire at night as way to gather your courage against the dark and cold, even as storms wailed outside. You’d do your best to be brave, ignoring the wee inner voice that wondered if the winter might never end....