Mabon:
The Goddess' Farewell to the Hunter
by Dame Niamh
Reprinted with her permission
Now
I lay you down upon the drying grass,
Beloved. Your eyes sweep shut; you are weary,
Having given all you could give,
Even now you fade into the dry brown turf.
Your
hand, once strong and warm, is dry
Like a little bundle of willow twigs; your hair
Fades into the leaves under your head.
Your blood and bones return to Me.
But
this is how it is: your sacrifice is made
So that all can live again as the Wheel turns.
Even now your child quickens in My womb,
Growing, flourishing. He will be born when the snow flies.
How
can I let you go, beloved?
I bend to kiss your lips, they fade against mine.
You smile, and slowly, slowly, sink into invisibility.
My tears fall where you were.
Now
you will go down to that sunless sea,
Climb into your boat and sail the moonlit waters,
Safe in my womb. When My waters break, you will be born,
And I will hold you in my arms again. Child, brother, husband
O remember Me till I hold you again!
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