Now is the eve of winter,
of Samhain
Bones of the dead will rise
for Samhain
Ancestors call
from Tir fo Thuinn
Beating wings
voice of the swan
Dance from sunset
into the dawn
And the Gods
will dance
in the mist
Blowing wind
will call them here
Voice of the dead
will answer our fears
And sing
as we dance
in the mist
Death to death
and life to life
Form to form
on the edge of the night
We call
as we move
through the mist
Womb to tomb
and birth to birth
Warmth of the flames
upon the hearth
We are held
in the arms
of the earth
Ancestors come
they hear our call
Dance their bones
down echoing halls
They rise
like the tide
of the mist
(author unknown)
