Beltane

the feast of Summer

BELTANE

Photo by S. Laiba Ali on Unsplash

Half past midnight
The Witching Hour is here
The boundary between worlds
Begins to thin on the eve of Beltane.

Jovial spirits wander the earth
Crossing the sacred divide,
Intoxicated by ethereal wine
They revel in mischief.

Flesh and blood celebrants, 
Captivated by fire,
Engage in frenzied dance
Purifying the physical body
With smoke and hot embers.

They beseech the great Sun
For generativity and fertility
The plenitude of Summer’s wealth,
Spilled upon the crops.

I have strayed far
Lost touch with nature’s rhythms
A prisoner of concrete and ash,
A stranger to a hundred gods.

I have forgotten the art of worship
The power of sexual delirium
The ancient rites of reconciliation
Necessary for survival.

Beltane is the feast of Summer
The domain of light
Plants ripen, flowers bloom
The fruit of human labor matures
Culminating in the hysteria of the harvest.
©2026 Stephanie M. Vargo