Fire and life, fire and life,
night is day and day is night.
Ritual traced, rites observed,
gifts to the kith of the other world,
eat and feast, pick and preserve,
vigil in place, time and words.
Night is day and day is night,
fire and life, fire and life.
Centre of the sun,
and the centre of the earth:
Autumn equinox,
dark and light of equal worth.
Forsake the old, hail the new
burn from the night through the morning dew.
Kindle and quench, then kindle again,
souls to their homes on the druids' spell.
Knocking on doors, hands outstretched,
keepers of the flames, diviners to be fed.
Harvest staples gathered, give the seers feed,
apples, brack and berries, Colcannon, nuts and seeds.
Sustain them so they work the night
suppressing calls or knocks of fright
from evil púca and the like
that near your brood or domicile.
A wailer in a gown, a bean sí screech
on this, Samhain, the Celtic feast.
A stock still sun,
midwinter has appeared:
Solstice night has begun,
the longest of the year.
Watch for the snake and eye the badger's set,
hope for the rain and make up Brigid's bed.
Don't forget the birch wand, she must cast her spell,
walk the sun way around the holy well.
Offer up a coin or a liquid contribution
to usher in new growth.
Secure blessed absolution
by bringing sacred water home.
Lay the table for the imminent promise
of the season's truest prophet.
Shoots burst forth, once again a novice
in the hands of fertility's White Goddess,
Blossoms out of bulbs, lambs in the fields,
on this, Imbolc, the Celtic feast.
Centre of the sun
and the centre of the earth;
Spring equinox comes,
dark and light of equal worth.
From Uisneach, let the trails ablaze
to every single pasture passage.
Tandem fires and gifts to praise
the beasts that prey on cattle.
Decorate the hawthorn and other thorny trees
and make up yellow bouquets
to ward off the old aos sí
for an auspicious May.
Let luck run from the highest rock
for ultimate crop fruition,
for safe and healthy grass livestock
and clement, clear conditions.
Protect every drill, every fruit and every leaf,
on this, Bealtaine, the Celtic feast.
A stock still sun,
midsummer has appeared;
Solstice day has begun
the longest of the year.
Bilberries and funeral play,
climb right up Croagh Patrick.
Marriages for a year and a day,
sever or take your chances.
Harvest time, let's celebrate
while we have the light.
Around again, the holy wells,
Tailtiú's death is our birthright.
Feed on what she made to yielding
from her clearing paths for seeding.
As she fostered so did those succeeding
and Setanta comes into our reading.
From Lugh's arm, the corn bequeathed,
on this, Lughnasa, the Celtic Feast.
Centre of the sun,
and the centre of the earth:
Autumn equinox,
dark and light of equal worth.
Fire and life, fire and life,
night is day and day is night.
Ritual traced, rites observed,
gifts to the kith of the other world,
eat and feast, pick and preserve,
vigil in place, time and words.
Night is day and day is night,
fire and life, fire and life.
(Happy Celtic New Year! The start of the new year was, traditionally in Ireland, marked by Samhain on 1st November. I hear the meteorologists on radio and TV have moved Ireland's seasons on a month. I get it: That puts us in line with the UK and it makes much more sense in terms of the weather. However, I mark the seasons the old way and I like to give a nod to the even older ways too).
