Paganistan: Notes from the Secret Commonwealth
In Which One Midwest Man-in-Black Confers, Converses & Otherwise Hob-Nobs with his Fellow Hob-Men (& -Women) Concerning the Sundry Ways of the Famed but Ill-Starred Tribe of Witches.
The Secret Heart of Samhain
The god stands naked at the temple door.
Crowned with antler and autumn leaf, he leads us, also naked, out and down.
Into the Underworld. Into the cave. Into the belly of the Earth.
Darkness of darkness.
He kneels to her. He raises his flame.
It dies.
In darkness, we call out the names of the dead.
In darkness, we sing. Asking for life, we sing.
In darkness, the apple passes, and we eat. Life has a price.
Then, out of darkness, flame.
By its light, the mystery revealed.
The secret heart of Samhain.
Photo: Paul B. Rucker, Veil
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