The Muse of Beltane
By Michele Geyer
Considered the Great Holiday by the Celts, Beltane is a time of purification, fertility & celebration. It is the midpoint between the Equinox and Solstice, the transition from Winter into Summer. The veil between the worlds is thin again at Beltane; the male & female energies are united and balanced; the beasts are put to pasture and the May Pole is driven into the Earth as a symbol of both fertility, and the sacred union between Heaven & Gaia.
As Queen of the Faeries, Rhiannon is the inspiration and muse for lovers, writers, musicians and artists. As a Celtic shaman herself, she moves between the worlds on her white horse, carrying those who are dying or taking soul’s journeys into the land of remembering and rebirth. Rhiannon left her Faery Kingdom, choosing to participate in the Sacred Marriage with a human Prince. Upon the birth of their first child she fell prey to betrayal & humiliation, ultimately being cast out of her husband’s family. Through her travails, in her own shamanic journey, she learned forgiveness & humor, rising to the high throne of amusement as one of the primary Goddesses of Beltane.
We call on you now, Rhiannon. You are the Divine Queen of the Faeries, Moon Goddess, otherworldly shape-shifter and songstress of all hearts.
The daffodils and narcissus reach out and wave to you as you float by. The cedars, the pines and other grandfathers of the forest bow to your lightness of being; the wind sings your name as the hummingbirds carry your sweet nectar, infusing and fertilizing the sage and rosemary scents of your essence. The smells of the Mother, her nature and rhythms, waft through the night while you dance with the elementals under the light of the bright full moon.
Come to us on your white horse, so elusive and swift, gowned in your dress made of golden threads. Come to us Rhiannon, shifting shapes and walking between worlds, you emerge in time to see us grow and expand like the true seedlings of Spring. You watch us through your bitter-salty tears of grief and forgiveness; reminding us, awakening us to what is valued in nature and the realms of your Otherworld.
You guide us to recall our memories of more magical times, of our connection to the elementals and others in the Faery world. You are the inspiration for all human creations: our music, our poetry, our prose and art.
Living with one foot in our world and another in your own, you remain clear on your course as you enchant every living being on both sides of the veil. You, the virgin huntress, your equal the horned stag.
Even as you have co-created this Great Marriage, you give up no power, commanding the sacred rights, the meeting of two, right where you are–integrated and strong; vulnerable and courageous, giving and receiving, the fountain of Yin and Yang flowing from your heart.
He follows you almost obsessively, never quite catching up; so swiftly you elude him and his army of men. When he finally puts his external forces to rest, he calls out your name. Like a firefly, you are instantly available, teasing and wondering why he tried so in vain to chase you in the first place.
Your Horned Stag now patiently awaits his Maiden Queen to guide him through the mists, slipping under the veils into a world he’s never known. It’s ecstasy he finds and his desires thirst no more, as you are his match, his mate, his familiar, and his true reflection. You are his and he is yours.
How committed you are to the Goddess on both sides. What do you offer, how do you receive and embrace the rhythms of her waves, her Moon, her Sun and her constant state of turning as you are here and there both? Will you embrace the cycles of the Mother in human form, or will you disappear into the mists forever?
Speak to us now, Rhiannon; teach us your elegance, your choices, your journey and rebellion, your commitment to the lineage of our mundane world. Speak to us of your emptiness, though we see your cup is filled to overflowing with the Divine.
How do you remain amused when betrayal knocks thrice, when you have lost your child so dear? How do you live, punished, humiliated and demeaned in this cage, enslaved by mortal fears? How do you carry this burden so boldly, so accepting and so humbly exposing yourself to the illusion of human royalty?
How do you forgive the accusers who cast you out of their homes, dismembering you of your dignity and birth right as Queen? Until near death you retained your humor, your wisdom and love for your King.
Oh great and sacred Queen, you remember yourself well as your love and support for those in crisis vanquishes the pain of your past. With this purity, you need never long for emergence, it is anchored within you for eternity. You readily serve those who house you with the dogs, and with sincerity and gratitude you accept their harsh gifts, all the while holding your sovereignty throughout lifetimes as High Priestess and sage.
We watch you here in this form, as you gracefully, joyfully sweep us onto your back, carrying us off to meet ourselves in full bloom to know our muse, our brilliance and our balance. We learn by your compassion to see only favor as we dance in the Moonlight, like you, we are hopeless no more. Thank you Rhiannon, for your mystical song, your poems of self-love as the Goddess fills our hearts with the tiny drops of joy and enthusiasm brought specially to us by the hummingbirds of your Spring.
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