Night of the Black Mirror

Hold up the crystal.

See who will die this winter.

Catch a floating apple.

See who will die this winter.

Cut the moneyed cake.

See who dies this winter.

This is the night of games.

This is the night when the curtain

lifts briefly in the wind of stars.

This is the night when the veil

shreds in the wine’s shards.

This is the night when we gaze

Into the face of the black mirror.

This is the night of prophecies.

The black mirror is a glass

Veil over a deep well.

This black mirror is a glass.

Eye from an old skull.

The black mirror is a glass

Jewel in the ring of time.

This is the night the glass breaks.

From the book Seasons of the Witch by Patricia Monaghan 2004, page 138

Maeve Prepares for Betane

Before anyone praises me,

I must praise myself.

My flaming Hair.

My noble nose.

My brilliant eyes.

Before anyone desires me,

I must feel my own desire.

My full soft lips.

My swan neck.

My full soft breasts.

Before anyone knows me,

I must know myself.

My polished skin.

My round belly.

My welcoming thighs.

Before anyone loves me,

I must fully love myself.

My briar patch.

My secret rose.

My fierce heart.

Before the fires blaze,

I set myself alight

From the book Seasons of a Witch copyright 2004 by Patricia Monaghan, page 47

A Joyous and Blessed Samhain

May your dance be one of joy with your ancestors and friends who have crossed the veil. Please kind in mind when honoring ancestors they do not necessarily have to be related by blood or family ties, an ancestor can be anyone who at some point in your life made a difference in it.

An example of a none blood/family ancestor – About a year and a half after my father crossed into the Summerlands I started taking oil painting lessons I was about 13 years old. My teacher was in her Crone years but her love and patience she embraced me with, plus her time spent teaching me, along with others in my class, instilled in me the real beauty of creating something going from my imagination out on to a canvas that I could see. Her warmth and love of art made a big difference in my life when I needed to become a child again instead of an adult taking care of my mother because her grief was almost completely oppressing her.