" My tidings for you: the stag bells,
Winter snows, Summer is gone.
Wind high and cold, low the sun,
Short his course, sea running high.
Deep-red the bracken, its shape all gone,
The wild goose has raised his wonted cry.
Cold has caught the wings of birds.
Season of ice - these are my tidings."
Irish poem - translated by Caitlyn Matthews
As the dark begins to descend and the days grow shorter I find myself following the seasonal call and turning inward. Like the energies within the trees, I go within and sink into my roots to commune with the treasures hidden there. That's the magic of the dark for me. After the expansive, outwardly focused time of light and warmth I'm craving the balm of darkness where I can settle into my soulscape and dream.
At Samhain, when in the Celtic tradition the current year comes to a close and a new year dawns, we find the veil between this world and the Otherworld is thin. Our ancestors are close and we are able to connect more easily with them. It's a time for honoring the dead, for letting go of what no longer serves us, and for celebrating the beauty of the darkness.
On this Samhain night may you enjoy gathering up your blessings harvested over the past year and welcome in the new year beginning and all the growth that will unfold in your life throughout the dark half of this coming year.
Sending Samhain blessings to you all!