Mabon Blessings

Mabon’s Whisper
Golden grain and apple red,
The fields now rest where once they fed.
Sun dips low, the shadows lean—
A hush between what has been and what has been seen.
We gather not just fruit and seed,
But dreams once sown, now ripe with need.
The second harvest, quiet, wise,
Yields truth beneath September skies.
So light the flame, and pour the wine,
Give thanks for growth, both yours and mine.
For all that’s come, and all that stays—
We honor now the turning days.