Medyosamonyos

Fullness is holy, but it is not stillness.

Fillo do lume, purifica a nosa alma e bendixe o noso camiño.

For your reading of Medyosamonyos

we recommend listening to:

"The Mummers' Dance" by Loreena McKennitt

It is midsummer evening: the shortest of nights, 

when our turning Earth is blessed 

with the greatest of light.

The Sun stands in his fullness, 

radiant in power, 

pouring his golden wealth 

upon leaves, wings, roots, rivers, fields, and flowers.

The trees are deep in green.

The birds are bright with song.

The days are warm, 

and the light lingers long.

This is a threshold time, 

a pause between the end of one turning, 

and the beginning of another.

The seen and unseen draw close, 

the veil grows thin in the honeyed air, 

and the old ones whisper through grass, flame, water, and wind.

The Fairies are drawn to such crossings: 

to twilight, to blossom, to riverbank and hedgerow, 

to the hush between one breath and another.

At midsummer, the world is full, 

for an eternity, that is but an instant

and yet continues turning.

The great wheel pauses in splendour, 

and the full weight of summer 

begins its slow and sacred tipping 

towards the darker half of the year.

Father Sun reaches his height, 

shining with brilliance and abundance, 

and yet even here, at the crown of light, 

the first seed of descent is sown.

From the gardens at Kew,

with the Tamesis as a witness,

our scions and I gather here

to honour the mystery of the turning.

We honour the Sun, 

the waters, 

the green Earth, 

with its animals, plants 

and the breath of life they bring.

We honour the spirits of the land, 

the guardians of root and stone, 

the bright ones of flower and wing, 

and the souls who walk beside us unseen.

We honour the newly departed, 

those crossing their own threshold, 

those learning the paths beyond the body, 

those held now in the wider light.  Akaal.

And we honour the light within ourselves: 

the inner guide, 

the allies of the heart 

who help us heal, love, and evolve.

At this sacred turning of the year, 

may we remember that fullness is holy, 

but it is not stillness.

All things move.

The light grows. 

The light blesses. 

The light recedes. 

The light returns.

And even as the days begin their gentle decrease, 

the blessing of midsummer remains within us: 

in the warmth of the heart, 

in the courage of the spirit, 

in the golden memory of what it means 

to stand fully alive beneath the Sun.

May you find peace. 

May you be healed by what is green, 

guided by what is luminous, 

and strengthened by what is eternal.

May the grace of the solstice be yours.

May the light warm your heart, 

steady your spirit, 

bless your soul, 

and walk with you 

through every turning of the year.

Yo lo Creo/

I believe and so it is