Troy

With winter on its way I am very conscious of the sun god's impending passage into the abyss, leaving us in the cold dark night of summers death. I can feel the caress of that dark ones kiss, and the sharp sting of that witches breath. Soon I will no longer be able to bask in the sun and dance in the warm breeze, twisting through the branches of the trees. All is not lost, though. Because the light of Lugh shines bright through my love when he smiles, beaming through my mind, vanquishing all the darkness there to find. The golden rays of Helios shimmer through his hair and sparkle on his skin, so light and fair. Surya's warmth radiates through his chest bringing comfort to my battle worn soul like the glowing embers of Beltane morning's blessed ash and coal. He is the golden blanket of corn and wheat, the lazy comfort of summer heat. He is the blazing fire burning bright in May. He is the glorious dawning of the day. He is the smell of honey suckles who bloom and faid so quick. He is the dancing flame and I the candle wick. He is the burning passion, the spring and summer light. He is the body I beckon in that sacred rite. I am the cold earth resting at his feet, cradling the potential of barley, corn and wheat. I am the dancing shadows he cast out from the hearth with his warm glow. He is the light that reveals what secrets those shadows know. Sol and Mani, running in unending playful chaise. Step in step, throughout time, in perfect time and pace.