By Don Iannone
It's Halloween; that one day in the year
when it's ok to dress up as George Bush,
Hillary Clinton, Saddam Hussein,
or any other ghoul you'd like to be.
A Celtic holiday handed down to us,
over two thousand years ago, that
outlasted the many devilish efforts by the Vatican
to overthrow the spirited celebration.
Originally just seen as the boundary
between summer and harvest, and
the long brutally cold days of winter.
But also a magical time, when the boundary
between living and dead slipped away, creating
a fortuitous time for prophecy by the Druid priests,
looking for clues about what the future might hold.
Bonfires blazed, casting shadows all about,
creating the in-between world, that
the priests used as windows through time.
All danced in costumed mystery in that single eve,
when the light and darkness embraced in twilight shadows.
As we watch the last of the autumn leaves
free themselves from the trees, and
we awaken to the first dusting of snow,
we don masks, light candles, and
whirl in the streets as dervishes,
coaxing the unknown from lit jack-o'-lanterns
crying for release from the secrets they hold.