Samhain is the final of the three harvest festivals, the harvest of meat. The Old King is dead, and the Crone will mourn her loss for the next six weeks. The sun is at its lowest point on the horizon, and this maybe why many Celts see this time as the New Year, as oppose to Yule. This is the point that Summer becomes Winter, as the Celts saw the year split into two seasons. As this is a changing point from one season to the next, this is a time of beginnings and endings. It is also a day to celebrate our ancestors and recently deceased. The veil between the worlds are at their thinnest as is the doors to sidhe-mounds, which means humans and fairies can come and go as they please between those worlds as well.
Archive for September, 2013
Within Celtic mythology there are several events connected to Samhain. Nemaedians capture the Tower of Glass from the Fomorians, ugly physically deformed creatures who are seen as the personification of evil. At this time Tuatha De Danann vanquished the Ormors and Pwyll wins the hand of Rhiannon from Gwawl.
The Celts called the time between Samhain and Imbolc, the time of little sun. It is also known as the “Last Harvest” or “Summer’s End”. Some groups will see Samhain as the end of the year, while other groups wait until Yule. Because of this, the time between the two is sometimes seen as the time that does not exist on Earthly plains. “The time of no time” is considered both magickal and dangerous. The celebration at this time tend to reflect this, being both joyous but reverenced. The celebration tend to happen at sundown on October 31st.
Wyverns are a symbol of revenge, retribution, creating protective barriers of fear as a defence, war, envy, pestilence, viciousness. They are a common symbol in heraldry. This gives the Wyvern a nobler connection. It is a sign of strength, power and endurance to those that uses its imagery. One of its most famous imagery is the “burning dragon” of Cadwalladr, or the dragon on the flag of Wales.
Wolverines are a symbol of revenge, understanding aggression, protection against attackers, multilevel protection, standing your ground, fierceness. Native Americans call them carcajou, which translates from corrupted French into evil spirit or mountain devil. Despite their diminutive stature they are one of the most ferocious of mammals.
Wolves are a symbol of facing the end of one’s cycle with dignity and courage, death and rebirth, spirit teaching, instinct linked with intelligence, social and family values, outwitting enemies, steadfastness, skill in protection of self and family, taking advantage of change, intuition, learning, the shadow, guardianship, ritual, loyalty, spirit, a pathfinder, psychic energy, inner divinity, teaching, careful study, cunning, escaping hunters, ability to pass by dangers invisibility, an astral wolf could lead you to a spiritual leader, strong protection, spiritual guidance in dreams and meditations, the teacher, success, perseverance, stability, thought.
Forever hidden in misty mornings.
Natural death had lots of warnings.
The same window shows different views.
On the road searching for a new muse.
Crystalline desires of a purifying fire.
Where black dogs runs through the mire.
A balanced view into the tempest dark.
Here be where heavenly dragons bark.
The darkness that never goes away.
Good or evil, I am its chosen prey.
At the heart of this heroic storm.
Walking the forest to feel warm.
Is the hunt for the one way to heaven.
Away from the light since I was seven.
The seductress walks a hidden path.
A murder of crows sing their wrath.
A day as still as a nostalgic nirvana.
This fairy of the forest and fauna.
Saw the key beyond this harrowing.
The hanging heads were narrowing.
The shark has pretty sharp teeth.
The crows has brought my wreath.
The alchemist has taken flight.
But the strong man taught me to fight.
Revelations of how to have fun.
The last stand is something done.
Red crystal of Beltane in the wood.
Life during the wailing war of good.
So what now love for this watery heart?
Turn off my mind, relax and fall apart?
The reaper has new words for me sing.
Auld song for new worlds and thing.
Dreaming of you on perilous bridge.
No more I love yous over the ridge.
Storm warning is this fairy misses you.
Only sleeping of compasses who have a clue.
Strong man, is love a losing game?
Or are the deep shadows to blame?
This fairy fell down the wishing well.
Strange love between us cast its spell.
The substance of things hoped for.
Along the darker roads to your shore.
A heap of broken images, frozen in time.
Into nothing, the devil turns to mime.
Sunset on wretched things for this white dame.
Two hours later and I feel no shame.
The ravening has nowhere to turn.
On the night roads we have much to learn.
On the dust of creeds outworn we settle.
Who cares when I am the strong man’s petal.