The Sun God has died and is returning to the womb of the "Great Mother". The transition is powerful, as he begins to grow and prepares for rebirth at Yule. The "veil" is now the "thinnest". Enter Ye, Olde Spirits!
To best describe "The Veil" as it pertains to All Hallow's Eve, would be an invisible world, shrouded in mist and mystery, from which the Dead exist or remain. The Dead are more restless than ever, on this day as they have lingered between Heaven and Earth in a Spirit realm, awaiting this night; and, tonight, the veil is the weakest. This will allow the spirits to pierce the mists and mingle with us, on our mortal plains. At this time, there is no separation between these two worlds, and it is believed that the Dead wander freely among us.
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Tonight, don't forget to open all of your doors and windows, a little before and after midnight, lest a spirit may remain.
After tonight is over, many of us may feel a sense of nostalgia, as we enter the winter months. Perhaps it is the build-up and the festive nature Halloween, itself, for which many have planned costumes and events. Once this night is over, we begin to reflect back to the previous summer months and the carefree feeling that is connected to that season.
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We begin to dig out our mittens, scarves and hats....our winter coats and boots. We locate the ice scrapers, brooms and shovels. Last year's left-over bucket of salt is dug out of our garage and put near our front doors. Usually after the first snow fall, it dawns on us that we need to have our winter tires put on our cars and service stations suffer and influx of those, like me, who put this off until the inevitable occurs.
A bit of Folklore....
"The Celts believed that many trees were inhabited by spirits or had spirits of their own. From this ancient respect for the power of trees came the expressions 'touch wood' and 'knock on wood' "
Source: mysendoff.com
THE VEIL
The veil shifts, and from the gossamer mists,
Spirits wake, to wander from the Underworld.
Pumpkins rise from their summer graves,
Among the bittersweet, bedeviled tendrils.
And vines of sour grapes are crushed to wine,
Strained sweet to sip from silver vessels.
The trees dismiss sanguine fruit and leaves.
The scent of Autumn fills our senses;
Seasons shift to bleed their yearly menses.
Blood red bleeds from the leaves of trees.
In admiration, we watch as they fall and swirl,
Summer's warm breeze and daylight fades,
Crows gather in murder, like shadowy thieves;
Silently perched, as if a Great Observer.
Since the dawn of all creation,
The spirits return from the fires that burn,
or slip through clouds and precipitation.
Original Poetry by © Denise Goodwin;
HaAll rights reserved.
Have a safe and blessed holiday, my friends!
