Into The West

The radio weatherfolk reckoned on rain–and storms!–for tonight. But we reckoned our small ceremony for the forgotten Dead could weather a bit of a storm, if need be. We were rewarded with a sunset that stole our attention, and pieces of our souls, I think. We gazed into the West, into a cloud-banked highway directly to Tir Nan Og, as we set up the little table with its candles and blue marbles and triple-headed angel.

We chose Aston Park because of its history and the sense of deep peace that seems to be part of the hilltop and the big central tree.  It has been the site for Earth Day rituals and weddings and funerals..and the occasional smooch and cuddle.

There was a circle of people who stood around the table. And we lit candles and honored the lost and forgotten and alone.  We sang “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot” and stood as a community of caring folk, and sad folk and grieving folk.  The sky darkened, blue changing to pink and orange and finally grey and black.  We could see the small lights from houses on the hills in the West.

We sang and spoke and stood in our hearts at a bridge into the West, holding those little lights, waiting to welcome them home.  And we did. And we hugged each other. And we left the hilltop to its memories and its ghosts.

The season we call Samhain blazed a trail with us tonight, down the path, over the bridge, and home. Into the West.

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