Hallowe’en Harvest by Joan Currie

On Hallowe’en, the earth bears gifts of gold,
Pumpkins swell, the squash begins to fold.

The harvest yields its bounty rich and bright,
And I give thanks beneath the autumn light.

But as I walk, the shadows start to creep,
And whisper secrets that the dark can keep.

For Samhain stirs, the Celtic year’s rebirth,
Where ghosts and goblins rise from out the earth.

My mind, so tethered to the harvest’s might,
Now feels the phantoms in the night.

The rational speaks of grain and seed,
But still, the restless spirits sow their greed.

A headless rider gallops through the gloom,
While witches weave their spells beneath the moon.

I walk between these worlds, both rich and strange –
The earth’s abundance, and the night’s wild change.

The harvest calls, yet something darker grows,
As from the underworld, the cold wind blows.

At this time of year, I feel an eerie presence swirling around me in the darkness on my walk home. As I did in my youth, I can’t help but pick up the pace and finally break into a run!

Happy Hallowe’en! 🧡