A Druid Blessing for the Trees
By
Mara Freeman
A ninefold blessing of the Sacred Grove
Now be upon all forests of Earth:
For Willow of the streams,
Hazel of the rocks,
Alder of the marshes,
Birch of the waterfalls,
Ash of the shade,
Yew of resilience,
Elm of the brae,
Oak of the sun,
And all trees that grow and live and breathe On hill and brake and fen:
No axe, no saw, no knife shall harm you,
No mind of ownership shall seize you,
No hand of greed or profit claim you.
But grace of the stepping deer among you,
Strength of the rooting boar beneath you,
Power of the gliding hawk above you.
Deep peace of the running stream through your roots,
Deep peace of the flowing air in your boughs,
Deep peace of the shining stars on your leaves,
That the harp of the woods be heard once more
Throughout the green and living Earth.
Entering the Grove
By
Adele Cosgrove~Bray
From a doorway in the west,
my footsteps led me through the trees
which stand and watch and wait
to create a quiet circle of earth
open to wind and rain and sky.
With warm and golden light
filtering from the solar eye
through lush rustling branches,
gnarled brown and lichen gowned,
tiny voices from feathered sprites
join song with bee and hoverfly.
Dew~damp earth creaks softly;
rich aromas of clay and wet rock
weave with moist leaf and arched petal
to dress the banks of a silver pool
where hare thumps and hedgehog scurries.
Round and bright, and red and brown,
the black~eyed robin sits in an oak,
head cocked sideways and whistles welcomes.
Purple dragonflies whirr by the water
adorned with frog~ flecked lilies.
Hailing the quarters beneath the sunshine,
hearing the canopy whisper and hush;
enetering the quietude of this sanctuary,
Look around as if for the first time,
feeling like a traveller come home.
Beltainne
By
Akkadia
I speak of what I have seen:
Wrapped in the shadows earthern-green
Wildwood One descends
Make my flesh one
With the Life of the Sun
Arise Return Send!
Our bodies tilled the soil
With talk of Harvest
As the seed is sown
Hopes of thigh-high corn to blend
Whilst we birth dreams
Others bring forth children
Yet is one more than the other in the end?
But this is the night
To Light the Light
A sacred fire to tend
Beltainne fire raises between my thighs
We ride the flames over and over
Then leap them
And you were the
Ancient one and Wild
Hoofed, yet silken of chest
Horned crown upon your brow
God and Goddess reindeer blest
Come in from the cold this night
Come into the moist forest depths
Let caress meet caress
Upon a moss eiderdown
Then return to the depths
That is where it is told
That Sun and Moon arise and rest
For both Sun and Star rise East and set West
All lights are One light
Our teinne the spark within
So on this night let us light the light
Ride the flames again
Then leap them
The Apple Tree
By
Mike Gulliver
Waves dust on a misty shore,
Nay never again to see!
The Lady and her maiden's lore,
Way clever the apple tree.
On night 'til standing stone,
Blossom sweet by fire.
Beltain sweep nay not alone'
Blessed to some my sire.
Dust wilt be life twin energy,
Harps string entwine thee.
Apple's spark inanimate effigy,
Hearts ascend and circle we.
From earth truth will rise again,
Light be cast so blind see.
Release shackles of dungeon's pain,
Like clever the apple tree.
The Banks of Caer Abiri
By
Phillip Shallcross
Caer Abiri, I see your white banks rising
through a haze of ancient mornings
in the falling of the year,
and the present falls away
like the blustered leaves of autumn,
as the scattered seeds are watered
through the season of decay,
and the white~bellied serpent
slides her weary way to earth,
leaving stardust patterns where she passed,
to the subterranean chamber
where she coils to sleep and dream
the lengthening nights away till her re~birth,
when yellow~green of springing shoots
break through the melting snow,
and grey wethers toil among their kin of stone,
sucking icy tentacles of crackling willow~grass,
their breath erupting steamy clouds of white
against the dark and frosted sarsens' sides,
she waits and dreams
and dreams and waits,
for time's long tide to sweep the shore of memory,
and lovers, children, lambs and larks,
old and young, caught up within the flux
of her sweet ocean flow to greet her once again,
with priestly magician, with poet and musician,
to take up the chant and rhythmic dance
of seasons come and seasons gone
and seasons yet to be,
as past and future merge within
the banks of Abiri.
