Solitary

Solitary

Tomorrow will be Beltane night. 

This time I’ll arrange to be out

when little Aussie trick-or-treaters

trailed by their mums and dads 

pour onto the streets,

colourful costumes bizarre

in the strong daylight

of a warm Spring evening.

They don’t know

it isn’t really Halloween here.

They think that’s a calendar date

not a season. And they never heard

of old, cold Samhain, when the dead

may return as the veil grows thin....

(Who turned it into Halloween?

Oh yes, of course – churches.)

On Beltane night, tomorrow,

I’ll get back after dark

when the baby ghosts and monsters

are safely home in bed. 

I’ll bathe. I’ll cast a circle.

There will be water, salt,

candles, a special crystal,

and rose oil, the perfume of love.

Bodily lovers being past or dead,

I’ll gaze at my own 

face in the mirror 

and speak to myself the words

of a ritual blessing, bringing in

love for me, then love for my friends,

love for the Goddess and the God, 

love for all creation, love of Life.

Beautiful world, I will not forget you,

even when the work gets hard

and the nights grow cold. 

Spinning the Wheel of the Year

alone at my tiny altar, the love I summon 

is for you, your regeneration; 

the love I call into being is for all of us.

The love I am is that which I seek. 

Candle image by Maliz Ong. Released into Public Domain, License CCOC0


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