There must be something in the water, because I've been having thoroughly odd dreams lately. One I had yesterday seemed to involve Lugh, and I can only really half-remember it all now but it seems that he really wanted to make himself known even if I didn't see him. These things don't happen very often to me, so I'm inclined to think that I should do more than simple offerings and libations in the garden to acknowledge him.
He and I have unfinished business, it seems, after all these years of not really wanting much to do with each other, and so I'm pondering on that, and trying to figure things out. A lot of my efforts over the past year or so have been aimed at really connecting with the underlying themes of Lùnastal, and of course he's intimately connected with the whole thing.
These past few Lùnastal festivals I've felt that I've had some success with it all, and while I think I can still build on that and really cement my practices into something solid, I've never really had the expectation that Lug himself would really want much to do with me. Maybe my dream is telling me different. Maybe my dream is telling me that deep down I think otherwise. Either way, it seems I should try. If someone comes knocking then one should be a good host, even if you invited them in the first place...
At Lùnastal I had a stab at doing some praise poetry in Lug's honour - I'm not a poet by any stretch and really, I figured it was personal and not being a professional I should keep it to myself. On the one hand, it seemed to be well-received, so that was something...On the other hand, there was something unfinished to it. Maybe that's it. Maybe I should finish it. Or try. I dunno.
So here it is, I'm offering it up. As I said, I'm no poet so it's nothing fantabulous, but it comes in honesty and earnest, if anything, and that's all I can do, really. While I've tweaked bits here and there just now, the overall form and feel has been kept, so it has the idea that this is being said towards the end of the celebrations, after the games and the feasting, in front of the fire:
In Praise of Lug
Oh Lug son of Ethliu,
Many-skilled and wise,
I sing my praises to you,
Renown that is plain.
Oh Lug of lofty deeds,
Golden are the fields,
Heavy hang the fruits,
Ripeness of fame.
Oh Lug of pure form,
Bright is the smile,
That smiles on you,
Beloved is the name.
Oh Lug of peace,
Peace to this earth,
The fruits of labour,
Each year the same.
These offerings I give to you,
These games I’ve held for you,
This fire that burns for you,
In your name.
Peace be with you,
Peace on this land.
