Today is Blessed Samhain,
And harvest-time is done.
The leaves and fruits have fallen;
Less warmly shines the sun.
The days are crisp and windy,
The nighttime brisk and clear.
Full bellies and full larders –
We slumber without fear.
We light the sacred fires
To celebrate this time
And drum the Earth’s own heartbeat
With songs and chants in rhyme.
We sing the Mother’s praises
And send Her off to sleep
And speak of our ancestors
Safely in Her keep.
The Reaper does his duty,
His sharpened sickle bright,
His bony charger treading
The quiet streets this night.
The souls of dear departed
The Summerland to find –
And Death collects them, one and all,
So none are left behind.
Cry welcome to the spirits
Of our Beloved Dead –
We share with them sweet water
And break the new-made bread.
We share as well the stories,
The memories and tales
That make our dead ones live again
With love that never fails.
This last day of the old year
To neither time belongs,
And in a place that’s not a place
We chant the sacred songs.
And in the holy Circle,
From first light unto last,
With laughter and remembrance,
We speak of times gone past.
So come ye now to Samhain,
Elder, youth, and bairn.
With loving thoughts and kindness,
Set a stone upon the cairn.
Then clasp the hand beside you,
For soon we shall depart,
And keep the days of Autumn
Full deep within your hearts.
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