He’s things to do in his work-a-day world,
Entranced by computer screens.
Flat images show him another flat scene
But they are not what they seem.
So he says good night to his co-workers there -
For a moment he actually cares;
Then off he drives in his fashion machine.
He’s got places to go and be seen.
He makes his way home on the crowded flat road
Absorbed in his thoughts and dreams
Till he comes to his house and parks his car
And hears the whispering leaves say:
And dressed in its disguise;
There’s light within the dark
And masks that hide the eyes.
Each one with a tale to tell:
Our friends and kin beyond the veil.
But he’s things to do and he turns away
And walks to his house alone.
Unlocks the door and checks his phone
Lights the pumpkin on the sill
He turns on the light to invite them all in
As something stirs within.
The children come, he shares their joy
His worries they all die.
He sees the shining light in their eyes
Behind the shadowy masks.
As he turns to the flickering light in the glass
The voices come and ask: Isn’t. . .
As the rays of the rising moon
Penetrate his lonely gloom
He surrenders to the voiceless choir
And once more feels that spirit’s fire.
He went next morning to his work-a-day world
On the first day of November.
He hummed a strange uncanny tune
And decided to remember:
He has friends in the fire and a light in the dark
And a sister in the Moon.
[Ed note: An audio of this song is available here.]
Let me be the compass
With which to chart your journey
Through the darkness of this night;
Without the shining stars to guide you,
Set your course by me.
Let me be the beacon
That helps you navigate the storm.
Where the horizon glimmers hope,
Winds of change lose the power
To blow you from your heading.
Let me be the hand that lifts you
From the depths of your despair,
From the surging sea that threatens
To engulf you in cold and fear.
I do not hope to save you from the torrent,
Only to buoy you from the swell of this tsunami
To the blessed relief of smoother seas.
Lady, you were the dream of Earth before the Earth was formed, and you will be the memory of Earth when the Earth no longer exists. You are the Spirit which indwells the Earth that is. You are the womb from which all earthly life emerges, and you are the tomb to which the dead of Earth return. You are the fountain from which we drink, and you are the garden in which we pluck our sustenance. You are the Maiden, the Mother and the Crone, turning like a wheel from birth to birth, ancient beyond memory, yet ever young. Praise to you, Lady, Goddess, Queen!
Great Sun, you are the Lord of Worlds; the planets with their moons, the asteroids and the comets are your courtiers. You are the bright star of the daytime heavens. You are the heat that rescues from cold and death, and you are the light that rescues from darkness and fear. You are the blaze of revelation and you are the glow of knowledge. You are the newborn God, and you are the Champion and Hero. You are the beloved of Earth, the center of her universe, and from you she does not stray. You are her husband; your embrace brings her to fruitfulness. As she is the Mother, so you are the Father of earthly life. Praise to you, Sun God, Lord and King!