Rites of Spring / The Naming Ceremony

I long to tell you my thousand names
Just as I long to be Nameless.
I long for titles the world has forgotten-
Priestess, Weaver, Mystic, Fey
Hearth Tender, Siren, Shaman, Muse.
.
The Other Ones call me these things
when I lift the veil
and enter Eternity
.
They set me free this way,
naming and unnaming me.
.
All Winter,
the world leafless and unpetaled,
no one calls out the names of things.
The fecund silence
of the fallow pasture
is broken at great peril.
But then, but then!
The mere, slight appearance of Life-
a leaf, a petal-
has me singing out their names
as if possessed-
.
As if possessed
by some empyreal chant
that's chanting me:
Tulip, Daphne, Iris, Oak
Magnolia, Dogwood, Trillium, Thyme
Their titles,
Ancient and bone-deep,
come tumbling from my lips
like jewels
across this holy scene.
.
I am uncareful with my Love,
shameless, naming
carnal, naming
And so is my New Life,
My Lover,
He just keeps coming
calling out my name, too,
in gentle ecstasy.
.
The Rites of Spring
are alive and well.
The titles you long for
Long for you.
Just start singing,
Singing out the names
of the Thousand Lovers all around you,
then listen, listen
for who is bold and kindred enough
to answer back.
.
Who will name you
when you arrive again,
newly minted,
bursting with color and magic?
Who knows your true name?
Who is brave enough
to let you be Nameless
in the dark night of your own Winters?
.
~Fey Étaín✨