I think of the space between Samhain and Yule as being the
quietude of new beginnings, when everything is possible and the spirit of the
world is coiling up beneath the snow, awaiting Yuletide and the blazing
transformation from potential to realization.
Samhain is a beginning, and an end. The Lady is poised betwixt and between, the
whole cycle of birth, death, and rebirth wrapped in Her flesh. She grieves for Her love, the slain God whose
body lies barrowed beneath the frosted earth.
And next to grief lies hope, for the child lying restless beneath Her
heart. The veil between this world and
the next draws thin beneath the weight of Her love.
O Goddess, we too are poised betwixt and between. Lady, bless us this night as we honor our
dead and nurture hope for new beginnings.
Lord, you who are the keeper of the Portal, the spirit of
the life gone and the life not yet begun, bless us this night as we keep our
watch and listen for the spirits of wisdom.
So mote it be.