Poem for Beltane Night

 

This Beltane is marked by storms, especially

of the inner kind: loss, bereavement, trauma, 

challenge, one after another. In the quiet of night

I go out, to find a large moon high behind trees –

and next to her Jupiter, clear, close as a lover.

This night I have no lover of my own 

to help me celebrate. Even those cats are gone

who used to come with me at midnight

into the circle of my patch of earth, my garden 

and my sacred trees, to greet the moon.

Yet I feel the whole earth pulsing with love

in this time of alive silence: a throb beyond

our ears to hear, yet not beyond our feeling.

The street, empty of people, is full 

of presences co-existing, just out of sight.

They come in peace. I greet them so.

Somewhere else, there is fighting,

there is fear, there is death, there is horror.

Tomorrow, I may have to face them,

those conditions, but tonight –

I’ll gaze at my own face in the mirror, 

speak to myself the words of blessing, 

bringing in love for me, 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. 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. 

I stand in love. My heart embraces the Universe 

as my hand blows a kiss to the moon.

Inside, I pour a nip of ginger wine.

I write a poem for Beltane. (Poetry as fertility.)

Pieces of dark chocolate melt in my mouth.