The Gathering for the Esbat
O Moon that rid'st the night to wake,
Before the dawn is pale,
The hamadryad in the brake,
The satyr in the vale,
Caught in thy net of shadows,
What dreams hast thou to show?
Who treads the silent meadows
To worship thee below?
The patter of the rain is hushed,
The wind's wild dance is done;
Cloud-mountains ruby-red were flushed
About the setting sun;
And now beneath thine argent beam
The wild wood standeth still.
Some spirit of an ancient dream
Breathes from the silent hill.
Witch-Goddess Moon, thy spell invokes
The Ancient Ones of night.
Once more the old stone altar smokes,
The fire is glimmering bright.
Scattered and few thy children be,
Yet gather we unknown,
To dance the old round merrily
About the time-worn stone.
We ask no heaven, we fear no hell,
Nor mourn our outcast lot,
Treading the mazes of a spell
By priests and men forgot.
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Poetry for the Esbat: Blessing Moon 2011
I thought I would start my own tradition of recognizing the Esbats with poetry. Not only are poems beautiful, but they make for wonderful reflection & mediation. Naturally, I must begin with the lovely words of my much adored Doreen Valiente. The following posthumously published work can be found in, Charge of the Goddess: The Mother of Modern Witchcraft.