O Holy Night! The stars are brightly shining Over the red roofs of Glastonbury town. Asleep are the folk, lying there quietly dreaming Of the coming of the Winter King’s holly crown. Dark is the night; its nadir as black as coal. Only the fire red eyes of the dragons glow, But something is stirring, a flame is igniting Under the ‘neath roots of the world below. O night, O holy night, O night divine!
O Hallowed Eve! Our hearts are loudly beating Like shamans’ drums, welcoming your return. And so we now prepare our hearths for greeting The guardian of the great stag Herne. Our harvests came in at Summer’s End. From Cinnamon Lane to Wick’s Hollow Our apples are honeying for mead, And now our fields lay silent and fallow... Awaiting the impregnation of your seed. O eve, O hallowed eve, O eve divine! O Samhain Night! The horned giant is rising Into the fan-vaulted skies to take his throne. The wise mages are crossing the desert in his belt Just as we cross this Wasteland to go home. The dragons process along Paradise Lane, And across the stained-glass windows of our minds As into our dreamscapes flames your wisdom, And your undying love for mankind. O night, O Samhain night, O night divine! © Annie Dieu-Le-Veut, Samhain 2021
Shaman of Avalon 