A t Samhain, life and death come together, and with this come many faces of death: gods of war, gods of funereal tradition, and crones that live in comfortable companionship with death. Samhain belongs to all these gods. What you find here is a selection of suggested invocations to connect you to their chthonic nature.
A Prayer to the Morrighan
All hail the Phantom Queen,
bathing, feet spread
to each side of the river Unius.
We salute your lusty nature,
warrior of warriors.
Take pleasure in your tryst with Dagda,
as life and death come together.
May we take heed when we see your raven
marking death and end of year.
May we take heed when we see your wolf—
The wolf may not harm us but we know to fear.
May we take heed when we see your eel
marking a need to retreat.
May we take heed when the red heifer stampedes;
when this happens we know we have lost.
We pray for your favor.
We give you the milk of healing,
the honey of joy.
We ask your wisdom,
that you reveal to us
the spells of your victories—
that your power
travel in our tongues
and that we may draw the peace of the skies
down to the earth
and our battles be won
by the hand of your magick.
A Prayer to the Morrighan for Men
Lady who tricks the wanton warrior,
be merciful;
let us know you on the fields of battle
as well as in the shadows of home.
Should you offer your friendship,
your thighs, and your wisdom
will both be held in high esteem.
You are sovereign; we bow to your skill.
A Prayer to the Morrighan for Women
Warrior woman, free and wild,
stir memories of women of war.
Stir memories of women of death.
We have forgotten these powers
alongside forgetting our wombs
bless the land.
Show us where to reach deep into ourselves,
to find the point between temporary and eternal
to draw power during our moments of struggle.
Lady who transforms
from raven to wolf to eel to heifer,
show us what we must do to transform ourselves,
to live according to truth
and beyond petty rule.
A Prayer to Dagda
Hail to Dagda!
Lusty King, warrior of appetites,
he with stamina enough to please the Morrighan!
We praise your mighty calves!
We praise your mighty arms!
We praise your mighty belly!
We praise your mighty brow!
May you bear your club to defend us;
may those who grant you sanctuary act in good faith;
may you please all women,
befriend all men,
and win every battle.
Hail Dagda!
An Invocation to Cerridwen
Hail to Cerridwen,
mother of wheat!
As the white sow,
you wander the fields;
as the mother of wisdom,
you confer knowledge
unto the worthy.
Be merciful to us
who approach you
in the wavering year—
time itself may be your cauldron,
its ingredients the universe itself.
We are stirred by you,
Wild Crone.
Summon us to wisdom
through the cold dark that lies ahead.
An Invocation to Persephone
Queen of the Dead,
take your throne—
whisper your mercies and judgments
in Hades ear.
Keeper of the pains of women
invisible to the minds of men,
part the veil between maiden and mother;
part the veil between mother and crone—
all are one on this night.
Wavering in the shadows of time, of loss, of sorrow,
rule beside your king.
Send word of us
to our beloved dead—
our thoughts carried to the earth below.
An Invocation to Hecate
Praise to you, queen of all witcheries,
for this glorious night of magick!
Be gentle to us mortal beings—
let us see how we might sharpen our wits,
strengthen our magick,
illuminate our souls.
Long have we been fain to learn all sorcery,
so graciously have you taught us!
We pour libations, raise this toast
to the Keeper of the Keys of Olympus,
to the Queen of All Sorcery,
to the lady who knows the secrets of the gods!
A Prayer to Psyche
Soul of humanity,
woman of the hero’s journey!
In you lives all our hope
for love, death, life, and immortality.
In Eros lays the force that moves;
the seed, the spark, the deepest joy.
In you, who labored under
Aphrodite’s sharpened eye—
you, eased by gentle Demeter,
so in turn please ease our labors!
We know, through you,
that love endures
through life,
beyond death,
outside of memory.
A Prayer to the Fates
At Samhain, the world undecided,
three ladies weave fine
the filmy veil of night.
Clotho’s knee churns the spinning wheel
by which all fortunes emerge;
Lachesis assigns each thread
spewed into her hands,
assigns each vein its place in the great tapestry
wrapping line by line alongside smaller and larger Fates.
Atropos comes to the end, the middle, at bare starts
cuts away, trims, or knots to what binds us here.
We may seek the favor of these Moirae—
a strong warp, a sweet weft,
but once the knot is made
we pray that we be woven of strong fiber.
An Invocation to Janus
Through your maw,
over your teeth,
across your tongue
we walk out the door
into the street.
The hinges swing;
between-things sing.
We walk through you
from old to new
on this Halloween.
An Invocation to Anubis
Hail Anubis!
To your voice do the dead answer!
To your light do the dead return!
To your justice do the dead kneel!
Under your ministrations are the dead preserved!
Open the ways for our beloved;
with kindness lead our dead
to the silent place.
Uphold justice to our ancestors;
we honor your work,
your fairness,
your tender ministrations.
An Invocation to Osiris
Hail to Osiris,
the King returned!
Judge us gently,
lighten our hearts,
refresh our spirits
as your love overflows
like water from the rising Nile!
Sacred light, fill us!
A Prayer to Isis
Blessed Isis,
you have descended and
reclaimed your lover.
In this time between times,
we must live without you—
travel well behind the veil.
We await your return
to see the spark of life
that you hold.
It will give us hope.
An Invocation to the Crone
Queen of Wisdom,
Queen of Night,
Queen who bids
when best to rest,
when best to fight:
gaze with us
into cauldron black!
In the vapors
let us see the future;
let us heal the past!
A Greeting to the Ancestors
As those who have lost close loved ones know, grief is a complicated emotion that mixes in powerful ways with Samhain’s reminder of our universal mortality.
Sit at this table
where the beet juice bleeds red on the cloth.
Here, we have a plate for you—
let us serve you, this once.
There, you see the spoon for seconds.
How happy we are
that you made it up the lighted path;
how pleased you could cross veil and threshold
to be with us on this hallowed night.
Pray with us, now,
that your journey be blessed;
that each year you return
until ready for rest.
Ah, but look at us—see our changes!
The seeds planted, leaves nurtured
have branched out.
Some have bolted!
Here is new birth—
new family.
Our hands have crafted, woven, written,
we sometimes feed your memory
with the work of our hands,
the songs of our mouths,
and when you depart,
depart in love—
love unchanged between us
on either side of the veil.
A Prayer to Beloved Departed Elders
Hail matriarchs! Hail patriarchs!
Come here, remember with us,
remember yourselves
as grandmothers, grandfathers,
as mothers, fathers,
as uncles, aunts,
as sisters, brothers,
as daughters, sons.
We remember you with stories
of warriors, of peace makers,
of healers, of teachers,
of farmers, of city builders,
of poets, of philosophers,
of people we loved.
In memories of you
dwell living feeling.
This is your spark, eternal—
an ember cherished,
a light passed from one generation
to the next.
An Invocation to the Young Ones Lost
Barely here, a glimmer, a glimpse,
then off you went
beyond our reach.
The grief for you frees all our pains:
fallen leaves, darkened skies,
failed loves, successful mistakes.
We rail at nature,
so beautiful, ugly, cruel;
we rail at Fate,
at every promise ever made,
and every one broken.
Yes, we even rail at you.
This is grief for the young—
no taste is as bitter
as fruit that withers on the vine untasted;
no sorrow as great as a child lost,
never to know loving touch.
A Prayer for Souls Reincarnated
You are dust, you are wind,
you are water.
You are memory of sons and daughters.
You are in the soil as fodder.
We may not know what form you take
or if you hang amidst the stars.
We just know that you are out there,
that some speck of you is ours.
A Prayer to Witches Gone Before
The words we use
to invoke, bemuse,
have new twists on the tongue.
But you beyond us know
the words of old—
and what you had to do.
Nevermind our quibbles
about right names and power;
guide us to the truth and wisdom
of these hallowed magick hours.
The names we choose,
the quarreling views
are of very little matter—
in what you made,
in the truth reframed,
we know the magick stays the same.
A Prayer for Pets that Passed On
Among the friends we laid to rest
we call our dear companions—pets!
Four legs, eight legs, none at all,
fur, feathers, scales, tiny and tall,
we feel your presence here.
Thank you for the cuddles and licks,
for friendly slithers,
for chirps and kicks.
You have a place in our hearts
that will stay ever after you depart.
A Banishment of Ill Spirits
For those who believe in spirits not necessarily beloved by those they haunt, the thin veil of Samhain is also a time to do house cleansing. While the spirits that make life troublesome have more power at this time, so do mortals—making it an even playing field if you would like to come home to your house in the order you left it or have nights of uninterrupted sleep.
I sweep you out;
I turn you about,
troublesome spirits,
go to the gods!
Leave here for the rivers,
depart for the skies—
I bid you—fly!
I’ll not have you linger
with your venomous trouble.
I’ll know if you hang on!
I pry you loose, claw by finger,
command you with this charge:
count every drop of water in every lake,
ocean, river, and sea;
count each grain of rice that ever was,
count every grain that shall ever be;
count every leaf on every tree,
that will fall or that will be.
Never again return—
don’t come near me!
An Offering of Peace to the Sidhe
Samhain has a long history of faery lore alongside its legends of love and death. Just as the veil thins between the living and dead, it also thins between the world of mortals and faeries. Some of these beings are mischievous, with no real intention of harm. Some really, really do not like mortals and will eat you if you take a wrong step. Faeries do not think like humans, nor do they share human morality. They can, however, communicate with us. Some modern Pagans attempt to propitiate faeries. Others prefer to avoid them. Since you can’t know what type of faery you will get, the following incantation might protect you from damage and convey peaceable intentions.
Drink this whiskey,
eat these herbs,
have this milk
then go gently on your way.
Good Folk, we have no quarrels here,
keep well, far from fear.
An Invocation to Turn Out Bad Faeries
Bane Sidhe—out, away from my door!
You are welcome at my corners and windows no more!
By iron nails,
by rust from rails,
by rowan and peony, primrose, and fennel,
by the metal in my blood—
no more of your evil!
Enough is enough!
By the four directions I turn you about
and cast you out—
my threshold will throw you back with your shadow!
(Adapted from Valerie Worth’s Crone’s Book of Words)
An Invocation for Protection from the Wild Hunt
Ancestors that walk with us,
beloved Dead watching over—
listen for the pounding hooves,
urge us to dive for cover
when the black dogs come a-baying,
when the shadows glide too long and strange.
Lead us into avenues well lit,
to bridges over rivers running fast and loud.
Hide us from the Wild Hunt;
keep us from the hungry gaze of the Harlequin’s shroud.
An Invocation for Strength in Facing Winter
The translation of Samhain as “summer’s end,” means, for many, that difficult days lie ahead as the lack of sun takes its toll on body and mind. In years particularly difficult, it may be a struggle to rally for this day of all days. It is hard to be celebratory in years of grief and struggle. This is a season to express grief, fear, and worries as a means of tapping into this powerful energy to heal or strengthen for what’s to come.
For some the cold grips too deep.
For others the darkness dims lights within.
There is ever the mortal dread.
Treacherous ice!
Foreign storm!
Wild weather, too cold, too warm!
Sleeping earth, let us reach our roots,
chilling air show us our breath,
sun shine bright in our memories
that we may draw you into our skins.
When the bluster of white covers your hope,
when days run too close to night—
nourish us that we may recover
as the world again becomes bright.
A Prayer After a Bad Year
The bees all died,
the land went dry,
our larders run low to empty.
Hear us cry
to turn the tide—
make the coming years
ones of plenty!
An Accounting of Loss Prayer
Grieve the dead and grieve the living
for endless taking, endless giving.
Free us from the swords of pain,
for what we will never have again.
Money went to debts too high,
once trusted friends said harsh goodbyes,
probably some houseplants died.
We bite our tongues on why? Why? Why?
But still we feel that pressure:
if we complain, to oft, at all,
we may fail some virtuous measure.
Ah, but here we have some time to grieve
as Samhain invites sweet release
to purge ourselves of sorrow.
When sunrise comes, as sure it will,
the weight of loss shall leave at cock-crow.
A Prayer to Bid Goodbye to the Old Year
This holiday represents the new year running into the old one. It is a time of divination in part because the magick of the Samhain season makes it an excellent time to do a few workings to sweeten the future ahead. Bless the land, bless the family, bless yourself, and bless the year ahead.
The balefire flickers out
as the time on the old year ends;
it’s the between-hour, without a doubt—
perilous moments ’til we light it again.
Farewell to the trouble,
farewell to the joy,
it all ends just the same:
with mystery shrouded in stories forgot
in the dying of the flames.
A Prayer for a Good Marriage
Should I pull kale
on nights with thin veil?
May I pick one
that brings enduring love:
someone kind,
of compatible mind
who will also treat me well.
To this person I vow
by the sturdy oak bow
in turn I will be kind.
A Samhain Blessing on the Land
May the winds be gentle,
may the bees be blessed,
may water flow free and clean.
May cold pass to heat
in even measure,
for each right month of the year.
An Invocation to Bless the New Year
Hail to the New Year!
We cleanse you with water,
we gift you with beer,
we brighten you with fire,
we smudge your air.
Pass this brightness to all here
that our efforts prove fertile
in living good cheer.
Buoy our spirits,
make the world bright.
Greetings, new annum, on this Samhain night!
An Invocation to Give Greetings to the New Year
Ember warming, growing
’til the spark becomes the flame—
flicker and rise, brighten dark skies.
Your light sends our love to the stars.
The earth leans through that final curve,
where heat and cold make full reverse.
Though the turn be old as time,
our presence rebirths this tilt as new—
yours, and mine.
What meteors lay in earthly wake,
what loved ones will the world forsake,
what precious love will come our way,
all unknown to us on this day.
But in it comes, the good and bad—
the New Year’s already burning.
We feed it what we once had
so that the new year feeds fresh yearnings.
A Divination Prayer
Calm my mind,
cool my soul,
send me within
to find what I know.
Open my vision,
lead my heart,
tell me what wisdom
to impart.
A Candle Blessing
Candle to candle,
flame to flame,
I pass this light,
you do the same
against all fear we stand.
Brighter, brighter,
pass the glow—
the higher the flames,
the lighter our loads.
Our burdens lift by sharing our light.
If the candle blows out,
we have our neighbors.
In wind and cold,
we share our labors—
we’ll just light up again!
A Meditation to Greet the Dark
All of Samhain—its folklore, its spiritual meanings, its preceding (and succeeding) holidays— creates a psychological conversation between humanity and our relationship with the dark. Longer nights can mean many dangerous things, both because of the cold and because of the advantage darkness gives to predators. Yet it also signifies much-needed periods of rest, moments to heal and meditate that we might not otherwise allow ourselves. This active meditation helps you assess your own relationship with the dark, and to extend your understanding and observation of extended nighttime.
Choose a night in the thirty days prior to Samhain, preferably one that is overcast but not likely to rain. If you have a yard to stand in, that’s good, but if you live in a heavily lit area, or do not have a yard, you will need to choose a location where you feel safe standing still at night.
Go to this outdoor space and look up at the darkened sky. Use all your senses to assess the space around you and the space between yourself and the sky. Take several deep breaths. Does it feel crowded or spacious? Is the ground beneath your feet soft or hard? What are the shadows around you doing? Monitor your own reactions and observe thoughts that cross your mind without engaging them. If the clouds part and you get a peek of the night sky, pay attention to any stars you might see or to the timing and color of the moon. Imagine feeling the distance between the top of the cloud and the night sky. Imagine becoming part of the space in between the stars and the earth. Notice, in that imagining, how far apart everything is. As you stand outside, you will likely notice that you are getting a little bit cold.
Bring your attention to the cloud cover. Imagine being the cloud—how the air and light from above might feel, how the air and ground below might feel. Sense the way the molecules move and drift, yet stay close enough together to form shape. Look at the ground around you—are you in an added layer of darkness because the cloud casts a shadow? Look and listen around you for evidence of animal movements and for the movement of the breeze. How is your experience of these things different in nighttime from day? Pay special attention to the way darkness might distort familiar things. Ask yourself, has the night changed this distorted thing or is it only my perception that has changed?
Finally, imagine how someone coming across you might see you at first. Will they know a human being is standing there? What else might that person perceive, cloaked as you are in shadow? How would that perception change based on the direction the person came from or that person’s mood or health?
Come back to yourself now, stamp your feet, wiggle your fingers, and shake your head. Once finished, go indoors and enjoy a warm drink, now that you’ve greeted the dark.