This evening’s ritual has a different feel – our intention tonight is to listen to the land, and even as people are still speaking, it’s in more hushed tones, and I can already hear the faint pulse of the land. Even the energetic container is created with fewer words – our circle having been cast by someone embodying a snake, some elements welcomed with tightly woven, impactful words, and others welcomed with nothing but the sounds speaking to our hearts. And then the energies of the Bee Maidens, the Melissae, are brought into the space. Although they’re invoked with words, and a spoonful of honey, the beings themselves are sweetly silent – communicating only with graceful motion and warm expressions.
They begin to dance with a delightful droning – the Melissae, the Celebrants, the Elements – all of us our dancing together. We are dancing our ears open; as we sing our hall sacred, and move our bodies, we are preparing our ears to listen to the land. When everyone’s senses are ready, when everyone is attuned to the land, like a bee foraging for flowers, they fly out of the cave to explore the freshly rain-washed land that is holding us as home. A very small number stay in the cave with the Melissae – we are there to hold space, nay, to prepare the space. We are there to support or create the perfect container, ther pefect honeycomb, for the honey-spell that we are community-weaving tonight.
The land has said what needs to be said this night, and the drums begin to play, like the quiet hum of a hive, calling the bees to return with their lessons. And return with deep lessons they did. They returned in swarms, and soon the hall was abuzz with with a soft sound, a subtle sound of all the lessons of the land. To this sound the bees and the Bee Maidens danced. We danced and we sang and we wove our wing-fanned honey spell, that all the world may taste the sweet sounds of all the lands.