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Earthwizard's Realms of Faërie

March, 17, 2005

Earthwizard's Realms of Faërie

	
	

	  Season of the Yule
	
	In a time of woe, when all the world
	like a storm begins to throttle us, wailing:
	the money, gone; the car, all broken down;
	the landlord at the door, the marshal on the phone; 
	the children all gone, the dog without a bone;
	the bills in the closet, impish, staring back at us:
	the unreasoning mind begins to sway, unhinged;
	the snow, black ice, the fallen tree across the house;
	and, I, who am neither the victim nor the sad man,
	begin to know just how blessed am I,
	the Season of the Yule upon me: my dear friends,
	surround me in this time of memory, cheer, and trysting;
	Having made my peace with the old year, the Yule log carved: 
	the image of Cailleach Nollag, shaped upon its hard oak, 
	to flame forth on the day the new year breaths its infant breath:
	then shall I follow "Grey Mari" house-to-house,
	my covenstead riding the moon blues out beyond time's reach:
	the horse's skull mounted on a pole, the giant
	snapping dragon of the dark night, eyes of glass,
	bells chiming, ribbons of yellow, black, and red, streaming:
	while the merry crew dances in the street,
	the leader knocking on each door with her dragon staff,
	asking permission to enter with Mari, the housel clan
	chanting back for assurances that no violence
	nor disorder shall its black tongue descend upon them:
	the songs back and forth, going, till all enter the embrasure:
	then all chaos is set loose and Gray Mari, dragon queen,
	snapping at the guests, brings the old years woes
	before each and every woman, man, and child:
	till they with cakes of honey light woven, subdue her.
	What messages of light and dark from out the old ways can we see:
	the knowledge that we are not alone, the seasons 
	to the goddess bring love and woe; yet, the true measure
	of our life's treasure is in the shared embracing,
	rituals entraining, the meaning of the great cycles, unfolding:
	and we, who are free in our remembrance of our true selves
	begin to dance, to sing, and make snow lilies in the snow, light circles sparkling:
	in honor of her who is our sole liberator, benefactress: our Lady, our Queen.

		- Earthwizard, aka, Steven Craig Hickman
		    ©December 15, 2003


	

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