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

 

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.