Waylander
			Ériú's Wheel

1. Betwixt Times


2. As Samhain Comes

The past, the present,
the future are as one.
The spirits of the dead,
seek this mortal plane.

Vibrations, subconsciouss,
probing gently
Buzzing bedlam
rampant in your mind.
The veil between the
worlds fade slowly
Otherworldly visions mesmerize.

The Bards and the Brehons,
the druids and the Seers,
Assemble at Samhaim
to greet the new year.

Strip the leaves from
the trees and quicken,
the decay of the flesh of the year,
feel the chill embrace of winter,
As the warmth fades away.

The leaves they fall,
as Samhain comes,
The wheel has turned,
as Samhain comes,
The harvest stored,
as Samhain comes,
Our kin we call,
as Samhain comes.

Set a place for our forebears,
Together we’ll dine,
Remember, give honour,
Their memories enshrined.
The bounty of our labour,
The harvest complete,
Winter is calling,
In darkness we meet.

Ward of the spirits
of sinister intent,
Wear masks of confusion
to keep them at bay.
Feast on the Flesh,
Fresh from the Flames.
Ritually fine with the
souls of the dead.

An Caileach,
enshrouded in her winter robe.


3. Shortest Day, Longest Night

Dormant land, in frozen sleep,
Nothing stirs in this desolate place.

The ancient which has strength,
withers not,
The roots run deep, safe from the frost
A ray of light penetrates
the womb of Mother Earth,
Ensuring our survival,
until growth begins again.

Gather together as this Sacred site,
Invoke the Sun God on the longest night.
Late in his coming, short in his stay
Profound is the feeling of the longest day.

Re-Enact our primal wisdom,
at his appointed time
As Ritual, ages old,
passed from the mists of time.
Light flows like liquid gold,
across the chamber floor,
Illuminating hearts and minds
our dreams alive once more.

Night falls, devouring the light
A darkness so dense
It can sense your fears
And taste your tears.

Life from death, warmth from cold,
The sun reborn, as hope returns.

Adorn the hearth with holly
For protection and for hope,
Use the sacred golden sickle.

As your cut the mistletoe.
Light candles in the winter trees,
hang the boughs with evergreen,
Burn fires throughout the longest night
To drive the dark away.


4. Imbolc

Lazy northern wind, it bites
Almost cutting you in two.
Howling winter winds torment.
Darkest times are almost spent.
Days of promise, landscape bright,
Evening lighter, shorter nights,
Subtle hints of days to come,
Shining sun, rain and snow.

It’s time to plant our wishes,
And watch them as they grown.

Brighid, goddess of the land,
Patroness of poetry and Bards.
Inspire us, both in word and in deed,
heal us, now that winter fades away.

The lambs are born in icy fields,
Count your blessings, cout the yield,
Omens for what the future holds,
Grow in strength of sacred Sun.

I see faces in the flames,
Ever moving in the haze
Purify the land,
With cleansing fire.

The fire of spirit shines
through her eyes,
her inner fire touches the Sun,
Inspiration, seer and guide,
Lead us through the sacred spiral.


5. The Vernal Dance

Goddess thawing, restless sleep,
Animate from slumber leap,
Sow the seeds, plant them deep
Protect, sustain, oh Anú keep.

Gathered in the unlight,
longing for the sky
enticed by the warmth of the air outside.
The warmth increases, at time to grow,
Life energising, above, below.

As the earth turns,
The stars and the sun rise.
Light floods the sky
In shining golden hues
And in due course
The solar disc above
Blesses the land
The Vernal equinox is here.

The light strengthens, to rival the dark
The power of the Sun God,
soon leaves his mark,
The earth in quickening
to the beat of the sun,
the buds burst forth, in glorious green.

Life force of the fauna,
Life force of the trees
Growing day by day.
The shamrock trinity
From ancient times.
The goddess of spring arrives.

Winter is banished
Life springs from death
As Caileach returns
To sleep’s soothing depth.


6. Beltine

Douse the flames, renew, relight
Arise with the dawn, focus your sight
Fire on the water, healing our ills
Spells of protection, gather your will.

Burn, the twin fires of Beltine high,
Awaken from thy winter sleep
Anoint the earth with sacrifice
Infuse the land with fertile dreams.

Make love in the forests,
cavort in the fields
Cast off inhibition, lower your shield
Salute the Gods, gulp down the wine
An Caileach,
transformed to maiden divine.

The rhythms of the seasons
The cycles of the moon
Feel the power of the elements
As the sun shines on you.

Blackthorn dark, sister of the May
Blaze thy trail once more.
A vaguely ghostly vision
Across the landscape sweeps
Give offerings to Anú
Our spirits safely keep.


7. As the Sun Stands Still

Arise in glory, feel the power of the Sun
The land sparkles like emeralds
With every progeny of green
I can feel the grass grow,
beneath my feet.
I can smell the bounty,
yet to yield.

And the night fades so fast,
in a pre dawn sky,
Golden Lúgh,
eternal eye.

Leap through the flames of
the fire upon the hill.
Today is the day when
the sun stands still.
May the rays of the sun
Energise, light your way
Feast, make marry,
on the longest day.

Dance skyclad by firelight
From dusk until dawn.
Celebration of life
Worship the Sun.
Partake of the gifts
The fruits of the land
As the God of the Sun
Walks with Anú, hand in hand.

The shadows shorten,
the sun climbs high,
Not a cloud to be seen,
in the bluest of skies.

Spirits of the land
Spirits of this place
hear our call
hear our cry.

I am the fire,
that burns within your soul,
I am the flame within,
that will never die.
I am the sacred light,
that makes your whole,
I am the mighty sun,
that will never rise.


8. To Feast at Lughnasadh

Gather here at Lúghnasadh,
Assemble one and all.
In memory of Tailtiú
(and) The golden shining one.
The champions and heroes
An assembly unsurpassed.
Contend and vie for victory.
In honour of the Clan.

The seeds that we have planted,
nurtured and watch grow,
Almost ready for the harvest,
when we reap what we have sown.
Sacrifice the sacred bull,
cut the ripened corn,
Tend the laden fields and trees,
toil form early morn.

Lúgh - Lámhfhada
Lúgh -The shining one
Lúgh - Samildánach
Lúgh - God of the Sun.

The moon is full, the stars burn bright.
The people gather here this night.
Invoke the blessings, call them down.
For now we feast to Lúgh’s delight.

Misty sun and cooling rain
Falls upon the pregnant swelling earth.
Drying trees and fertile fields,
Await, the mystery of birth.

The wheel keeps turning
Last vestige of light
We bask in the warmth
Of the final summer sun.

The stars are rising early,
the days pass us by,
the changes they are subtle,
a dark tinge in the sky.
The offerings are over,
the rites said and done,
The contest are all finished,
the glory has been won.


9. Autumnal Blaze

Pick the apples from the laden trees
In the heart of Macha’s realm.
In verdant hues of red and green
An autumnal color scheme.
The leaves are fading day by day
Store the harvest, safe away.

The land, divine, has blessed us, her bounty stored away.
As the nights begin to lengthen, and the light in fades to grey.
Gusting winds that brings the rain, the leaves they spiral down
The moisture sinking deeper, softening the ground.

The sun sinks toward the hillside.
Bathing the mountains in blood.
Rites performed at sundown
By the light of the harvest moon.

Summer has slowly passed away,
The rising dark soon holds sway.
Prepare yourself for winter
The frost a warning sign.

Twilight of the solar year
Winter visions, drenched in fear.
Ériú's Wheel turns round and round
Blazing sun through frozen ground.

Reap, reap, what we have sown.
Now we reap what we have sown.
Reap, reap, what we have sown,
Dreams achieved, fully grown

Ériú's Wheel