Come, take my hand

and lead us back to Camelot,

to Logres and Arthur, Britain’s king, Britain’s legend,

its round table and its knights, chivalric men of honor

and justice, sworn to protect the helpless, these spiritual

and moral men of character, dutybound, might, even, for right.

 

For the King is the land, is the people, symbiotic,

interconnected, all three one thriving together, but …

disrupt one, one off, one in sickness, a ruler tainted,

selfish and greedy, calling himself mighty, powerful,

all knowing now, but morally failing, forgetting his place

in this triad, shattering a sacred bond; or the land laid bare,

a wasteland, infertile, nothing flourishing, flora nor fauna,

but sludge and smog, smoke and fire, nature blighted, ravaged;

the people, too, famine and turmoil, an emptiness of spirit,

lost and wandering, uncaring, careless, hate-filled,

defiled, a sickness; and the healing question is yet unasked,

all for the lack of a pure heart questing for an answer

to restore a king, restore Logres, and humanity.

 

Lead us back to Camelot, Britain’s king, and chivalrous

knights, to begin, perhaps, our own quest for the Grail,

for the restorative and healing power of that holy chalice,

regenerative and life sustaining, lured as we are towards

wholeness and healing, purified, reconciled, transformed.

 

And the question we ask now of the Grail, the Grail question asked:

“Whom does the Grail serve? What ails you, ails us?”

and the healing begins.

Mabon's Arrival

Mabon’s arrival, the second harvest

of fruit and vegetable, of abundance,

declaring the new season, summer

into fall, into autumn, into the dark

months ahead, a giving of thanks

and a sharing of ourselves and the fruits

of our lives, sustaining us, balanced

this one day, lightness and darkness

shaking hands in passing, equally day

and equally night, journeying toward

winter, a closing in and shutting out

of the cold and darkness of our being,

an introspection, an accounting,

tallying up the changes of our lives

against the certainty of renewal, of growth

amidst the dormancy of winter,

to begin again, like the seeds

clamoring toward the sunlight,

blossoming, creating wonder and beauty.

---------------------

Mabon: “Also referred to as Harvest Home, the Feast of the Ingathering, and Meán Fómhair. Mabon is the second celebration of the harvest, a ritual of thanksgiving for the fruits of the earth, and a recognition of the need to share them to secure the blessings of the Goddess and the God during the coming winter months. One of the eight major annual sabbats or festivals. At Mabon, day and night are in equal balance. It is a time to offer gratitude for the blessings of the harvest and also to begin to prepare for turning inward. Making dishes with apples, squash and pumpkins as part of ritual celebration is customary.”

Recognized by: Pagan, Wiccan, Druid

Autumn's Equinox

Fall’s Equinox is fast approaching,

and the Summer’s Triangle slowly retreats,

replaced again by Autumn’s Celestial Sea, a change

of seasons and the movement of constellations

through the heavens, the Lyre, the Eagle, the Swan

descending, giving rise to Pegasus, Perseus,

and Cassiopeia; the Wingèd Horse,

the Hero, and Vanity’s beauty ushered in,

a tale of betrayal and rescue and love,

happily-ever-after in the northern sky,

the gods immortalized in the stars.

Untitled

A distant calliope plays in the recesses

of my memory, that shrill whistle of music

that accompanies the horses around

and around on a carousel carrying you.

Under a cloak of darkness and dim light

the foxes cross my yard and sit outside my window,

calling out in their silence, “Pay attention,

be present, this moment, now,” a message carried

otherworldly, a transformative journey back to our wild

and feral selves, the fox within, seeking still ourselves.