This is a visionary piece – what would morning prayer as a priestess of Avalon have looked like hundreds of years ago?
The silver bells of Avalon chime: it is just before dawn, and as a Priestess of the Isle you are called to prayer. You awake from your soft lavender-scented bed and wrap your blue wool cloak around your body.
You walk through the hallowed halls of Avalon : arched colonnades of white stone, intricately carved with animals, gods and goddesses, worn down by the fingers of many centuries of priestesses and priests – out into the landscape and into the dawn mists in the morning chill.Ā
Many other priestesses are here – dressed in thick cloaks, emerging from halls and huts, from orchards and garden paths – all following the path up the hill to morning prayer.Ā
As they walk they hum and sing softly under their breath, every step connecting with Mother Avalon beneath their feet – and you join them, winding your ways up the hill through patches of vervain and foxglove.
You meet at the ancient stone circle atop a soft hill – nine stones rise above the mists, and from here you can look out and see the inland sea surrounding your island home: the fog rolling over the waters, a haunting call from a water bird echoing across the lake, and the scattered song of the late-summer dawn chorus from the woodlands.Ā
You step inside the circle and stand in a ring. You reach out to hold the hands of your sisters: and a thread of connection locks in place. You look out at the others here on the hilltop with you: some meeting your eyes and smiling, some with their heads back and eyes closed deeply breathing in the morning air, and some with sleep in their eyes and mussed up hair.
As you stand in sacred space, you anchor into the earth – the stones around you help, rooting you deep into the earth so you feel as if your feet become the soil of the Great Mother. You turn your heart to the magic of the Goddess and receive her presence – the Lady of Avalon is especially potent at dawn and dusk, the times of transition and change, and itās as if you feel her iridescent touch all around you – lighting up the hedgerows, dancing in the trees, creating a portal of miracles.
You look up and see her in her form as the Morning Star on the horizon, sparkling in the hazy blue sky. In the centre of your circle, incense curls up to the heavens from a great blue chalice: the scent of cedar, rose, lavender and juniper spiraling up as an offering as the priestesses whisper prayers and blessings to Goddessā¦
ā¦ mother, hold us all in your love today, may we be be cloaked in your protectionā¦
ā¦ mother, bring your strength and grace to people of the war torn lands beyond these shoresā¦
ā¦ mother, please sort out the aphids on my tomatoes, they are driving me madā¦
… mother, may my son patch things up with his girlfriend…
ā¦ mother may all people be happy, may all people be wellā¦
The whispers turn into a hum which rises as the sky brightens, amplifying the energy and blessing in this circle of Avalon – you can feel it around you, like a vortex of golden energy.Ā
You and your sisters tone together, sounding the sacred syllables around the stone circle as the sun begins to break the horizon, louder and louderā¦
ā¦ until the sun has fully risen, shining her pure golden light upon the lake. The mists glow in the sunlight, and as one all the priestesses stop toning.
You rest in the radiant moment of peace, here in this stone circle, in the presence of the Goddess of Avalon. You feel her bless your body, kiss your skin, melt into your being, drinking in the energy of the divine…
ā¦ and then as one, you all raise your hands and send this energy out into the world, to bless and heal, to work miracles and create wonders.
With your inner eyes you see the golden energy pouring off the hills and speeding out into the wider world around you, sinking into the land, touching the heart of the people who live on the lands of the Goddess while they dream.
The morning prayer is complete.Ā
Some sisters stay in the circle, their forehead pressed to the ancient stones, connecting in with the earth a little longer. Some laugh and chatter, speaking with their friends as they begin to make the walk back through the long grass down the hill. Some shuffle out of the circle to stumble back to bed and get a little more shut eye before their day begins in earnest.
And you stand here on the hill, breathing in the dew-soaked scent of the morning, hearing the first cries of the jackdaws in the beech trees, and are infinitely grateful to have woken up in Avalon once again for another beautiful day.
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