🎃🦇🎃 On Oíche Shamhna 👻🦇👻

This is a good time of year to honor my Irish ancestry and let the history of the day speak for itself.

Samhain Merges With Halloween

Neither new holiday [All Saints Day, All Souls Day] did away with the pagan aspects of the celebration. October 31 became known as All Hallows Eve, or Halloween, and contained much of the traditional pagan practices before being adopted in 19th-century America through Irish immigrants bringing their traditions across the ocean.

 

Samhain prayer to ancestors:

This is the night when the gateway between

our world and the spirit world is thinnest.

Tonight is a night to call out those who came before.

Tonight I honor my ancestors.

Spirits of my fathers and mothers, I call to you,

and welcome you to join me for this night.

You watch over me always,

protecting and guiding me,

and tonight I thank you.

Your blood runs in my veins,

your spirit is in my heart,

your memories are in my soul.

With the gift of remembrance.

I remember all of you.

You are dead but never forgotten,

and you live on within me,

and within those who are yet to come.

 

magical beings in flight through the veil

Photo by J. Harrington

Samhain prayer for children:

Samhain is here, cold is the earth,

as we celebrate the cycle of death and rebirth.

Tonight we speak to those through the veil,

the lines between worlds are thin and frail.

Ghosts and spirits in the night,

magical beings rising in flight,

owls hooting up in a moonlit tree,

I don't fear you and you don't fear me.

As the sun goes down, far to the west,

my ancestors watch over me as I rest.

They keep me safe and without fear,

on the night of Samhain, the Witches' New Year.

Samhain
By Annie Finch
(The Celtic Halloween)

In the season leaves should love,
since it gives them leave to move
through the wind, towards the ground
they were watching while they hung,
legend says there is a seam
stitching darkness like a name.

Now when dying grasses veil
earth from the sky in one last pale
wave, as autumn dies to bring
winter back, and then the spring,
we who die ourselves can peel
back another kind of veil

that hangs among us like thick smoke.
Tonight at last I feel it shake.
I feel the nights stretching away
thousands long behind the days
till they reach the darkness where
all of me is ancestor.

I move my hand and feel a touch
move with me, and when I brush
my own mind across another,
I am with my mother's mother.
Sure as footsteps in my waiting
self, I find her, and she brings

arms that carry answers for me,
intimate, a waiting bounty.
"Carry me." She leaves this trail
through a shudder of the veil,
and leaves, like amber where she stays,
a gift for her perpetual gaze.

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