presents:
a mabon plaid
Autumn is a good time for visiting;
During its short days there is work for all...
There are sweet acorns in the high woods,
Cornstalks are kind over the brown earth.
~ancient Irish poem of the seasons (translated by Caitlin Matthews)
A very blessed Mabon all,
The air is cool and the summer is set like the sun in the west. The birds have begun to migrate, their songs fleeting as they pass over and make their way towards their winter homes. The harvest has come, the vine has withered and dried. Seeds are now being stowed and the pace of life seems to have changed. The days are shorter, and the night lays a heavy dew with frost soon to come. Everywhere the earth takes in the last rays of light, gathering to itself a blanket of color. It speaks to me, and I feel it within me. These most beautiful blue skies tempered against the radiant colored hills. The ways a leaf turns, readies to float down to the ground, shivered loose by the winds. A gentle hand seems to pluck them from their parent and send them on their way. This is the Autumn Time, when pumpkins glow bright- warding away negativity in the deepest darkest night. When our ancestors feel so close as we are reminded of their lives. So close they seem, as if only a whisper will bring them back again. And they are there I assure you that. Unseen perhaps but not unfelt. Mabon, the divine youth, has come to age and drink the wine of wisdom. The shadowed time, where we are all reminded of our mortality and humanity. Gathering to us the fruits of spring’s planting and summer’s growth.
A very
blessed Mabon to you all.
Remember the wisdom and the courage we bring into this time, when we face our fears and prepare for the long winter that leads to rebirth.
Young son to the Great Mother,
trinity of days to pick the berries or else the fey to claim,
Sweet Goddess who now enters the crone wheel
it is proper to adorn the headstones of rebirth
to balance the darkness and the light
upon a sacred space for ancient rites.
~Autumn Laird
~Autumn Equinox~
The Autumn Equinox has its place in time.
It follows the Lammas rites; the sun has less shine.
The daylight hours are shorter, as it sets earlier at night.
The hours sent by the lord of light,
Are the same as those sent by the lord of night.
Harvesting the fields is a job
that’s been done,
Collecting fruit from the trees is a task just begun.
The berries, the fruits and the taste of the plum,
Is a gift to our soul from the ripening sun.
The land is of beauty, inspiring dreams that come.
It is time to accept all things how
we find.
A time to reflect on things lacking in time.
To remembers our ancestors looking down from on high.
To bless their memories with a gift to the sky.
As Samain approaches we ask ourselves why?
Pax Vobiscum
Alwyn
Mabon Rain
By Autumn Laird
September 18, 2003
Soft rain
Lift me up
Pick me up
Green my edges
Fill them full of sound
Pattering and streaking down
Drinking deep
Thinking deep
Roots take hold
Soak my dry brittle bones
Make life flourish again
Skeletal leaves dancing on air
Flittering down to the ground so bare
To cover it in a blanket before snow
Acorns drop as the wind shutters
Loose they let gravity take them
Some may seed some may feed
Orange sky alight by the blazon hills
Trees turning as if fire-licked by the sun
Mabon now comes
My heart aches with the changes
But the beauty in seasonal death still stuns
The smell wraps around me
Welcoming memories
It urges me to lie down in a pile of leaves
To breathe deep the feast
Take rest in the harvest of bounty
Remember the joys and the sorrows
Lighting candles in my mind
To honor time
And the cycles I live by
Cool rains ushering fall
The water flows in a pattern
Down soft pools and dips
Finding its way to the roots within
Channeling through the maze
Walking the dark paths within
To find the light of the fire burning
Lighting the way