It's early to be blogging Beltane, but my wonderful circle of women held our planning meeting last night and, like the song that begged, "Bring me some peace when there's talk of war, I've got peace on my mind," all day today I've had Beltane on my mind. Not the least because this year, for the first time, my work responsibilities may have me out of town on Beltane. One of the prices of being a minority religion is that people plan things for your high holy days.
Beacons at Bealtaine Phoenix Park, May Day, 2004
Uisce: water. And fionn: the water's clear. But dip and find this Gaelic water Greek: A phoenix flames upon fionn uisce here.
Strangers were barbaroi to the Greek ear. Now let the heirs of all who could not speak The language, whose ba-babbling was unclear,
Come with their gift of tongues past each frontier And find the answering voices that they seek As fionn and uisce answer phoenix here.
The May Day hills were burning, far and near, When our land's first footers beached boats in the creek In uisce, fionn, strange words that soon grew clear;
So on a day when newcomers appear Let it be a homecoming and let us speak The unstrange word, as it behoves us here,
Move lips, move minds and make new meanings flare Like ancient beacons signalling, peak to peak, From middle sea to north sea, shining clear As phoenix flame upon fionn uisce here.
I'm a woman, a Witch, a mother, a grandmother, an eco-feminist, a gardener, a reader, a writer, and a priestess of the Great Mother Earth. Hecate appears in the
Homeric Ode to Demeter, which tells of Hades who caught Persophone
"up reluctant on his golden car and bare her away lamenting. . . . But no one, either of the deathless gods or of mortal men, heard her voice, nor yet the olive-trees bearing rich fruit: only tenderhearted Hecate, bright-coiffed, the daughter of Persaeus, heard the girl from her cave . . . ."