Epona Watch

courtesy of faucon of Sakin'el
In
medieval times a statue stood
In every stable and fence surround
That honored the Goddess of the Horse.
At
her feet a cornucopia of fruit,
And garlands of roses midst singing birds,
For She was of birth and life
itself.
She is forgotten, but not the mare,
Pristine white with gentle nuzzling head,
To listen close and accept a gift.
Epona, Epona I call Thee --
Watch over my children's simple needs
Of warmth and food and maternal love.
A
garden awaits at Sakin'el
For your return and so gentle peace,
Where I can sit and watch with Thee.
For
my aged soul has not forgotten
That a Mother's touch is forever,
And doesn't fly 'way on silver wings.
faucon
of Sakin'el
Night
Rides

Artist Trading Card
courtesy of Patricia Stewart
1.
Pegasus by faucon of Sakine'l
2.
Night Ride by Barbara Banta
3.
To Tree of Crystal Souls by Carol Abel
4.
Ride into the Night by Megan Warren
5.
Night Rider by Leonie Bryant
6.
Night Ride with Fireheart by Gail Kavanagh
7.
Night Ride by Karen Roberts
8.
The Cathedral by Anita Marie Mosocoso
9.
Treasure and Traveler's Tails by Shari Vogt
10.
Night Ride with Secret Companion Bobbi Fetterly
11.
Distant Bells by Eternally Luna
12.
Leather and Lace by Patricia Stewart
13.
Güarionex by Alexandra Roman
14.
Captain and Black by Vi Jones
15.
Flight of Fancy by Lois Daley
16.
Night Ride by Heather Blakey
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December 18 2005
Epona - A Soul Parable.

Epona Carousel by Heather Blakey
Night Ride by Simone Crowther
Scarlet drops of blood lay glistening.
Slowly, they began coalescing: forming muscle fibres, skeleton,
organs, flesh, finally hair. It was like watching foetuses grow
at high speed in the womb. Then it was over. Thirteen glistening
wild mares stood pawing the ground, flashing eyes and gnashing teeth.
No sane person would go near them but this wasn't a sane world,
so I approached the last one at the far end. Coal black with a tiger
stripe down her back. She was trembling with a sort of barely suppressed
irritation. Her eyes rolled in her head and she looked like she
wanted to kill someone. With a stab of the heart and an inner certainty,
I knew she was mine. I put out a tremulous hand which she snorted
at and then deigned to sniff. Emboldened, I twisted my hand in her
ropy, bristling mane and climbed on her back. She reared and I thought
it was all over.
Enormous fiery wings opened up beneath
my skirt and she shot into the air like a bat out of hell. I cling
to her neck as she rockets upwards with furious speed. The world
reels. Stars become silver streaks as she rides the Mistral Wind
of Desire and we lose ourselves in the flight. This is no Pegasus,
this is Nightmare Herself, demon horse of spectres and divine fury.
Something uncoiled in my stomach as I
caught her riotous rage. Yessssss! I screamed as I gave myself to
the storm.
Madness wells up inside of me, fury possesses
me. I am a maniac driven by an insane rage that seems to belong
to the very earth herself. We are not alone, there are other Furies
riding this night. I see them in the distance riding the knife edge
of the storm, all filled with deadly purpose. As one, we howl with
banshee laughter, with glee. For tonight is Walpurgis Night and
tonight we are free. We are here to set the balance right, to hunt
the hunter and right wrongs long left to brew.
Suddenly I realize that we are not alone.
The air is peopled with winged things and the atmosphere tingles
with electric anger. Harsh, furious forces of nature fill my soul,
threatening to tear it apart. Mage fire crackles from my finger
tips and joy bubbles up inside of me.
I stretch my hands forth and bright
white lightning crackles forth. We strike trees and the earth itself
in explosive bursts of incandescent built up energy. Trees split
apart in agony and the earth itself splits open in response. A host
comes from that newly made chasm... A baying, yelping surge of hell
hounds. White luminous canine shapes of energy with red tipped ears
and burning terrible red fire eyes.
We see him, the huntsman and hurtle
after him, shrieking with lunatic laughter that wells up from our
depths. We thrust the proud hunter from the sky and tear him to
bits. Each claiming a bit of our own - reclaiming our power that
built him. The balance is restored. Exhausted and spent. All is
calm.
Arabian Horses
And God took a handful of South wind
and from it formed a horse, saying: "I create thee, Oh Arabian.
To thy forelock, I bind Victory in battle. On thy back, I set a
rich spoil And a Treasure in thy loins. I establish thee as one
of the Glories of the Earth... I give thee flight without wings."
-- from Ancient Bedouin Legend (Byford, et al. Origination of the
Arabian Breed)

Epona, Goddess of Horses, took thirteen
droplets of blood from the coral throne of the Gorgons and carefully
dropped them in the stables. Pure white Arabian
horses rise, snorting, offering to take travellers for 'night
rides'. Go to the stables and find your horse. You will know Epona
when you see her. She will take you anywhere you command.
Chill It
Enough of this rushing around shopping
malls and preparing for the Christmas crowds. Buy in some popcorn
and chill it watching The Black Stallion.
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