Tuesday, November 2, 2010

Bean Nighe


This Samhain is particularly significant to my grove as it will be the last one our Senior Druid is heading. She's headed the last 13 and is ready for a break from that part of Senior Druid'ing at least. She started with The Morrigan her first Samhain that she led and is ending with The Morrigan. In addition to bringing my usual stuffed pumpkin, I have been asked to invoke Nemain, the bean nighe warrior maiden aspect of The Morrigan.

The Morrigan has been explained to me as being similiar to Cernunnos in so far as it's not that The Morrigan is one deity/person or even a triple aspected deity/person, it's a job title. So it's more like a bunch of women who work for MorriganCo. which is a little difficult for me to wrap my head around but makes sense.

There's been a poem/invocation in my head for the last few weeks for the Nemain. Going with the idea of MorriganCo, all of the things "she said" were said to me by different "shes", and the last three paragraphs are what my Nemain faction has said to me. I will be doing a small altar for her as well, she's requested the picture I like of her and warrior port which is simple enough.

Nemain

She appeared to me in a dream
She said
Her face a canvas of wode
She handed me a feather
and told me to give it to you
She said you'd know what it meant

Whenever there is a battlefield
She is there
She said
When you are able to put your hands
into the river of black oozing sorrow
and not fall in
Instead grow a pair of wings
like hers
that will hold you up
when you can't stand
and make your spine a thing
of steel
that's when you've won

I know you said this is the
worst day of your life
since daddy died
She said
But
It got better

Each day a little at a time
She said
Moment by moment
Breath by breath
She said

I'm proud of you
She said

It's impressive
How much you've
Metamorphosized
Became you
But better
Unfettered
She said

Stand your ground
Dig your heels into
the mud slick with blood
and battle
Whispered words do more than
swords most days

Never give up your power
Steal it back
Eat it whole

But don't mistake your power
as freedom from the river
Your wailing and tears
Crimson soaked cloth in hand
Some things can't be forgotten.

5 comments:

leatheraven said...

This is excellent, thank you for posting. Do you mind if I share your poem with my small group of LiveJournal friends? Also, if you don't mind me sharing it, how would you like to be credited?

V.V.F. said...

More inspiration?:

Dark one are you restless
Do you guess they gather
To certain slaughter
The wise raven
Groans aloud
That enemies infest
The fair fields
Ravaging in packs
Learn I discern
Rich plains
Softly wavelike
Baring their necks
Greenness of grass
Beauty of blossoms
On the plains of war
Grinding heroic
Hosts to dust
Cattle groans the Badb
The raven ravenous
Among corpses of men
Affliction and outcry
And war everlasting
Raging over Cuailnge
Death of sons
Death of kinsmen
Death! Death!


(Some words from the Morrígan in the Táin Bó Cuailnge.)

Shelly said...

very moving! beautiful. That last section is really chilling!

Miss Sugar said...

@ leatherraven - I'm flattered! Please credit it to Deborah Castellano with a link to my blog.

@ V.V.F. - That's beautiful, thank you for sharing.

@ Shelly - Thank you for your kind words!

leatheraven said...

Will do, thank you.

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