Group Samhain Prayer

End over end in the growing darkness it spins,
with no light to flash from its whetted edge.
With no light to flash from its whetted edge,
it comes as a surprise,
out of darkness, it comes unseen;
it comes in silence, it comes unheard,
until with a thud,
until with a thud it hits our breasts,
and transfixes the summer hearts we had not believed could die.
With hardly a hiss of resistance, the sickle of harvest cuts away our most beloved moments of past warmth.
From the harvest of grain, it comes to the harvest of souls.
Its silent coming pulls from us a sudden cry, and we mourn.
For the death of the year, we mourn.
For the death of the grain, we mourn.
For the death of the light, we mourn.
And we are shocked to learn that we mourn for ourselves:
we mourn for all our losses:
we mourn for every love that has passed away,
we mourn for every love that never was,
we mourn for every loss we have ever known,
we mourn for losses yet to be,
we mourn for all we have yet to lose,
we mourn for all dreams we will never realize,
we mourn for the little deaths we have known,
we mourn for the little ones to come,
and we mourn for the great one, which will come at the end.
If there is no one who will mourn that passing, all will still be well,
for tonight we will have mourned in anticipation.
Tonight we will have mourned our own deaths,
we will have mourned the death of all who mourn here with us,
we will have mourned the deaths of all who die,
we will have mourned the deaths even of those who die unmourned.
We honor these deaths with our mourning,
which comes in the darkness through which Samhain's sickle flies,
which sounds through the thud of our shock at its arrival,
which rings out in the silence of its cutting,
which is heard after it is silent again,
which is the eternal mourning of eternal, unavoidable loss.
We mourn for all deaths.
We mourn.