A Pagan Ritual Prayer Book (24 page)

Perhaps above all things, Pagans are identified with celebrating the seasons. We attempt to put ourselves in alignment with the cycle of life and death, of flowers and food, of plants and animals, that follow them. In this way, we seek to make our lives those of nature.

Most modern Pagans follow the eight-festival year of Wicca. This is a combination of the solar festivals (the solstices and equinoxes) and the four great Irish festivals (also called the cross-quarters, since they are found roughly halfway between the solar ones). Other Pagans, particularly Reconstructionists, follow the traditions of other ancient cultures.

I've included several prayers for each of the eight festivals. However, if we want to follow the seasons, we need to follow those of the place where we live. I therefore suggest adapting the prayers to line up with the seasons rather than the days. I also suggest celebrating days other than the eight. I've accordingly included prayers for other occasions, including ones that were not celebrated by those who devised the eight-festival year.

• Somewhere in this world,
  

  at some time,
  

   
  

  this day of the year must have been sacred to some gods or goddesses.
  

   
  

  If I don't know which ones or why,
  

   
  

  don't be insulted, but accept this,
  

   
  

  given out of my ignorance but no less sincerely.
  

   
  

• Holy Ones, whose good-will crowns the efforts of everyone who works hard to produce, at any season,
  

  bless those whose livelihood depends upon this one,
  

   
  

  whether it be that which is now beginning or now brought to its harvest,
  

   
  

  whether farmers, or fishers, or employees whose jobs depend on quarterly profits,
  

   
  

  bless them, bless their work.
  

   
  

• Let us remember the words of the Goddess, that all acts of love and pleasure are her rituals, and let us take joy in this holiday.
  

• In Ireland, lambs are being born.
  

  But what is happening in the world outside
  here
  ?
  

   
  

  Telling the old stories is good, but we need to remember that if we are to honor this season, we need to know what it really is.
  

   
  

  Goddess of the inside, but also of the tame outside,
  

   
  

  we ask you to remind us of both.
  

   
  

  If we then turn away again, back to your sacred flames, it will be knowing what's going on beyond them.
  

   
  

• When spring is truly here at last, may we slide into it unsurprised because of the visions allowed by your inspiring light.
  

Brighid:

• We pour out milk and set out bread for Brighid,
  

  who dwells, a living presence, on our hearth.
  

   
  

  This is what was done in the old times on this night of Imbolc,
  

   
  

  and we who keep to the traditions of our Ancestors do it again.
  

   
  

Dawn:

• With fallen fetters, in red-robed splendor,
  

  stream forth, Dawn Maiden, return the herds.
  

   
  

  Come to us, Dawn, as cow, not as mare.
  

   
  

  Disperse the fog the serpent leaves behind.
  

   
  

  Come to us, Dawn, as cow, not as mare.
  

   
  

  With your maidens about you, open the gate.
  

   
  

  Come to us, Dawn as cow, not as mare.
  

   
  

  Do not block the gate; may the sun's path be free.
  

   
  

  Come to us, Dawn, as cow, not as mare,
  

   
  

  opening the mountain's mouth,
  

   
  

  pouring forth the white streaming water.
  

   
  

  Maiden, Dawn, open the way
  

   
  

  for the sun to rise and light the earth.
  

   
  

  Stream forth, dawn's light.
  

   
  

  Do not hold the sun back, Dawn.
  

   
  

  Open your cloak and let her rise;
  

   
  

  let her rise,
  

   
  

  attended by her maidens.
  

   
  

  Let her rise, and illumine the world.
  

   
  

• Look, the ice cracks!
  

  Hear, the snow melts!
  

   
  

  Feel, it grows warm!
  

   
  

  Spring arrives,
  

   
  

  with the summer's gods in her train.
  

   
  

• Dawn brings the sun over the horizon's edge each morning,
  

  winning for light the battle against darkness.
  

   
  

  Dancer, win for us today the battle with the dark of the year:
  

   
  

  from this day may there be more light than dark.
  

   
  

Eos:

• Out of the too-long darkened east,
  

  come to us, Eos, illumine the land!
  

   
  

  Out of the long-extending night,
  

   
  

  come to us Eos, illumine the land!
  

   
  

  Out of the frigid, empty cold,
  

   
  

  come to us Eos, illumine the land!
  

   
  

Eostre:

• Born new each morning, you are always young,
  

  a beautiful girl, a welcome child.
  

   
  

  It is with particular joy that we see you again on this morning, Eostre,
  

   
  

  that is to say, “She Who Rises,”
  

   
  

  for your rising today is not just the rising of the day but the rising of the year,
  

   
  

  not just the day's dawn, but the year's.
  

   
  

  The Sun that follows will be magnificent, and our praises of Him will be proper.
  

   
  

  But He shouldn't get
  all
  the glory, Dawn Goddess, for you come too, announcing that He's coming, yes,
  

   
  

  but worth a prayer or two of your own.
  

   
  

  We therefore break our anticipation and stop a while to look at this young girl you are,
  

   
  

  Eostre who brings today this day's dawn, which is the dawn of the year,
  

   
  

  reaching up and rising, red in the eastern sky.
  

   
  

  This is the day that ushers in the time of light,
  

   
  

  and it is the coming of a girl who brings it:
  

   
  

  Persephone, Maiden no more, gives birth to the spring.
  

   
  

• Kite aloft on the winds of March,
  

  carry my prayers to the gods of spring.
  

   
  

Eostre:

• The sky is covered with Eostre's cloak,
  

  and the ground is covered with her tears.
  

   
  

  She rains down gently on our fields,
  

   
  

  Eostre rains down.
  

   
  

  Rise up, rise up,
  

   
  

  the seed in the ground.
  

   
  

  Rise up with Eostre's warmth.
  

   
  

• Ground appears—what a wonder!—through the snow,
  

  something not seen for months.
  

   
  

  And from spot to spot, from green to green,
  

   
  

  a trail is growing of dancing feet,
  

   
  

  the path of Eostre, who brings the dawn,
  

   
  

  and now the dawn of spring.
  

   
  

The Goddess:

• May the drops of the spring rain be like the hairs of the Goddess brushing the earth as she turns her smile upon it to awaken the spring plants.
  

• In the peepers' call,
  

  sing to me of spring,
  

   
  

  Mother of Seasons.
  

   
  

Mars:

• Spear and shield, spear and shield,
  

  Father Mars, Father Mars,
  

   
  

  Dance the steps, dance the steps,
  

   
  

  Sing the hymn, sing the hymn.
  

   
  

  Bring the spring, bring the spring.
  

   
  

  Spear and shield, spear and shield,
  

   
  

  Dance and sing, dance and sing,
  

   
  

  Pater Mars, Pater Mars.
  

   
  

Persephone:

• Softly,
  

  softly pushing the flowers up from where you are hidden under the earth,
  

   
  

  Persephone,
  

   
  

  you're making a dancing ground ready for your return,
  

   
  

  when you will tread softly, softly,
  

   
  

  with your maidens and us.
  

   
  

• There's a young girl in my fields
  

  and she's dancing.
  

   
  

  She's dancing lightly through them
  

   
  

  between the shoots of the plants.
  

   
  

  They reach up to her out of love
  

   
  

  and she bends down to bless them.
  

   
  

  There's a young girl in my fields.
  

   
  

  Do you see her?
  

   
  

  Sweet Persephone.
  

   
  

Sun:

• The bright yellow crocus,
  

  a sun in the grass,
  

   
  

  praises with me the Sun in the sky,
  

   
  

  and I with it.
  

   
  

• Beltane is a time not for prayer, but to dance and sing,
  

  or to pray by dancing and singing.
  

   
  

  Dance and sing:
  

   
  

  For Beltane!
  

   
  

  For May Day!
  

   
  

  For the coming of summer!