The season's shift is swiftly approaching,
and in the doing,
the mighty Sun will diminish
(from our perspective).

The days will become shorter,
as He gives way to the nurturing Darkness of the Mother.

I build a Wicker Man,
in preparation for this time,
keeping my attention, my prayer,
on what role the God plays in my life.
I see this concept of Deity as a witness to all I do,
a motivating initiator to shine Light upon my heart.

You might see Him differently.

Because I am eclectic in my rites,
I find many layers to the God.
In addition to the Above and Beyond me,
I feel his presence upon my skin,
and in my life.

During the building of my Wicker Man
I have known the God as the Harvest King,
the One, who with his own permission,
is cut down by his community
to die in service to those he loves.

I have seen in his arms,
the arms of the eternal Father.

I have found in him the blessed Consort of the Maiden.

I also have heard his whispers as the Son.

After building his effigy of natural findings in my dooryard,
such as corn stalks when I had a garden in Vermont,
and now the branches of oak and palm here in Florida,
he stands watch upon my doings for a few days.
We See one another, He and I.

During this time I will gather the finest offerings of the season
to place at his feet, or in his body,
in the form of flowers, fruit and vegetables.

I will give him all I am ready to be done with,
as this is the greatest release of the year, for me.

One year I gave him my Broken Heart.
Another year I asked him to take my Poverty.

I also ask him to carry my Hope and Intent with him,
to deliver to the Sacred Mother,
who will incubate them in her Earthly womb.
In doing this, I have faith in their sprouting in the spring.

On Mabon,
which is also known as the Feast of the Second Harvest,
the Vernal, or Autumnal Equinox,
and the beginning of the fall
(which I find very appropriate...the fall of the God in this form),
I stand before him in prayer,
and set him on fire.

I have known tears to fall down my face in this prayer.
I have cried in renewed mourning
of all which is lost to me.
I have also found the eternal smile of Hope as
I have seen the smoke lift my prayers to the heavens,
and the God turn to ash,
as He lay safely upon the breast of the Goddess Mother.

I am able to do this ritual in confidence
that the seasons of the year, and of life,
serve a purpose.
It is up to me
to utilize the turning of this wheel
to the greatest of my ability.

I know many of my prayerful friends
would be well served in this rite,
but live in places where building and burning their own
life sized Wicker Man is simply not practical, at best,
and punishable, at worst.
Some folks, even without threat,
are concerned about the scrutiny of neighbors.
For these reasons I have built wee Wicker Men this year.

When the full moon was in Pisces
I prayed these effigies into form
using jasmine vines, hemp cording
and the smoke of burning sage, to bless them.
They spent the night charging beneath that moon.

I prayerfully painted fabric to drape on them.
Colors evoke the season,
in yellow, orange and red.
The red also represents the blood of sacrifice.
Those who choose to do so,
will inscribe what they are ready to let go of in prayers upon this fabric,
drape it upon the poppet, and know He will carry with him.

I also rolled little scrolls of parchment paper
to serve as the prayerful seeds (more like the plantings of bulbs) of incubation.
Upon these one would write their prayers of hope,
the details of what they are working on, even in the coming time of stillness.

All of the Wicker Men, drapings and scrolls
have been prayed with, blessed and consecrated
over a three day period.

They are ready for you to purchase
to help you in your prayerful release and incubation work.
If you live locally, you'll get a break on your price,
since I'll be saving the cost of shipping.
Prices range from $30 to $50 dollars.
The smallest is 12 inches tall.
The largest is 19 inches tall.
(you will find them posted in their own photo album)

May the turning of the Wheel find you
blessed in the workings of the Sacred.

©Spellbinding Sherry