In wild explosions of fiery colour
that fans our inner flame,
October’s woods are turning
into towering bonfires,
ablaze with free-falling fruit.
As leaves flutter and fall
we run around like children,
trying to catch them in mid-air.
Everything seems redder this year,
as the scarlet of the maples
makes us weep with happiness,
whilst autumn’s bracken
slowly turns a golden brown.
In the fierceness of the rut,
we stamp our feet with longing
to return whole to ourselves.
Amid this month of mass funerals
Mother Nature glories in passing,
knowing Her autumnal seeds,
hidden from sight but not heart,
fall deep into the dark earth.
While Samhain’s sacred fire
lights our way to winter,
the season of sorcery is upon us.
Through the thinning of the veil,
as the gates between worlds open,
let us light a hallowed candle
by the mirror at midnight
and call upon our ancestors.
Blessed Hekatê, Great Mother!
May the light of your torches
guide their souls across the night.
Copyright © Deborah Gregory 2019