The Magickal Pen

Waking Up

Breathe deeply. The time is almost here. We stayed out in the sun’s full light and knew that the days would shorten and the time for quiet and rest would be ticking down to the day that soon will be.

We’ve waited through the first harvest, as wheat and grain were cut and the grain lord nourished and filed our bellies. We’ve waited through the second harvest and the last of the root and sacrifice of the animal gave promise that we would survive the increasing darkness ahead.

We called to the ancestors and stood at death’s gate seeking the way and offering up plates of food and drink to those beloveds long past. The veils parted and their gossamer form billowed out in the chill of purposeful winds. And, the cry of the banshee cut sharp and strong like shards of ice.

We settled in deeply to…