It was my first Beltane, my first night at the fires. I was nervous,
unsure, merely a maiden in the springtime. How I longed to be callous and
proud, like the other women. Those women always got chosen first, the
experienced, practiced, casual ladies, never maidens like me.
* We call them cool
Those hearts that have no scars to show
The ones that never do let go
And risk the tables being turned *
I was nothing like that. I was the brightflower maid, a simple peasant girl, barely ready and eagerly anticipating what was to come. How desperately I awaited the lighting of the fires, the wild dancing, what inevitably came after.
* We call them fools
Who have to dance within the flame
Who chance the sorrow and the shame
That always comes with getting burned *
I tried to be calm, as I nervously stood there in the twilight. What else was I to do? The priestesses were walking round, each one baring a torch. They lit the logs, making what looked like a bonfire walkway, a path between the flames.
* But you've got to be tough when consumed by desire
'Cause it's not enough just to stand outside the fire *
I was herded to one side of the huge twin pyres with the other women. The men were led to the other. I tried to behave as the others did, cool and unafraid. Truth be told, I was trembling like a rabbit, but I was too proud to let anyone see that.
* We call them strong
Those who can face this world alone
Who seem to get by on their own
Those who will never take the fall *
The first woman was guided to the edge of the flames. She would not be led through the pathway, she and she alone would choose whether to go forth or turn back. She stood there, indecision grabbing hold for only a fraction of time. Only the crackling flames spoke. Then, she held her head high and walked through the fire.
* We call them weak
Who are unable to resist
The slightest chance love might exist
And for that forsake it all *
I watched that first woman as she walked through, and the next and the next. Each woman was unique, each was the same. They blended and ran together, until I had convinced myself that the Goddess Herself walked through the fire this night.
* They're so hell-bent on living, walking a wire
Convinced it's not living if you stand outside the fire *
It was my turn. I stood on the doormat of the walkway of flame, caught in terror's clutches. No, I could not let myself fall back. I held my head high, stuck out my chin, and walked through the fire.
* Standing outside the fire
Standing outside the fire
Life is not tried, it is merely survived
If you're standing outside the fire *
As I reached the other side, I saw them. The men. A full score of them. Young and old, strong and crippled, fair and dark. From the hazy, flickering firelight, I saw one approach me. He was handsome, tall and lean. His hair was dark and curly, his eyes were bright, shining with love and lust in the fire's glow. Wordlessly, he took my hands, led me to one of the bonfires atop this hill. He kissed my lips, and then pushed himself back. In the still night air, the sounds of flutes and drums began, and we looked into each others' eyes.
* There's this love that is burning
Deep in my soul
Constantly yearning to get out of control
Wanting to fly higher and higher
I can't abide
Standing outside the fire *
We danced half the night, running around the bonfire, and shared the rest under the beautiful stars, in the light of the full moon. I never knew his name, but his dark hair and bright eyes will always burn in my memory.
* Standing outside the fire
Standing outside the fire
Life is not tried, it is merely survived
If you're standing outside the fire *
* Standing outside the fire
Standing outside the fire
Life is not tried, it is merely survived
If you're standing outside the fire *
* We call them cool
Those hearts that have no scars to show
The ones that never do let go
And risk the tables being turned *
I was nothing like that. I was the brightflower maid, a simple peasant girl, barely ready and eagerly anticipating what was to come. How desperately I awaited the lighting of the fires, the wild dancing, what inevitably came after.
* We call them fools
Who have to dance within the flame
Who chance the sorrow and the shame
That always comes with getting burned *
I tried to be calm, as I nervously stood there in the twilight. What else was I to do? The priestesses were walking round, each one baring a torch. They lit the logs, making what looked like a bonfire walkway, a path between the flames.
* But you've got to be tough when consumed by desire
'Cause it's not enough just to stand outside the fire *
I was herded to one side of the huge twin pyres with the other women. The men were led to the other. I tried to behave as the others did, cool and unafraid. Truth be told, I was trembling like a rabbit, but I was too proud to let anyone see that.
* We call them strong
Those who can face this world alone
Who seem to get by on their own
Those who will never take the fall *
The first woman was guided to the edge of the flames. She would not be led through the pathway, she and she alone would choose whether to go forth or turn back. She stood there, indecision grabbing hold for only a fraction of time. Only the crackling flames spoke. Then, she held her head high and walked through the fire.
* We call them weak
Who are unable to resist
The slightest chance love might exist
And for that forsake it all *
I watched that first woman as she walked through, and the next and the next. Each woman was unique, each was the same. They blended and ran together, until I had convinced myself that the Goddess Herself walked through the fire this night.
* They're so hell-bent on living, walking a wire
Convinced it's not living if you stand outside the fire *
It was my turn. I stood on the doormat of the walkway of flame, caught in terror's clutches. No, I could not let myself fall back. I held my head high, stuck out my chin, and walked through the fire.
* Standing outside the fire
Standing outside the fire
Life is not tried, it is merely survived
If you're standing outside the fire *
As I reached the other side, I saw them. The men. A full score of them. Young and old, strong and crippled, fair and dark. From the hazy, flickering firelight, I saw one approach me. He was handsome, tall and lean. His hair was dark and curly, his eyes were bright, shining with love and lust in the fire's glow. Wordlessly, he took my hands, led me to one of the bonfires atop this hill. He kissed my lips, and then pushed himself back. In the still night air, the sounds of flutes and drums began, and we looked into each others' eyes.
* There's this love that is burning
Deep in my soul
Constantly yearning to get out of control
Wanting to fly higher and higher
I can't abide
Standing outside the fire *
We danced half the night, running around the bonfire, and shared the rest under the beautiful stars, in the light of the full moon. I never knew his name, but his dark hair and bright eyes will always burn in my memory.
* Standing outside the fire
Standing outside the fire
Life is not tried, it is merely survived
If you're standing outside the fire *
* Standing outside the fire
Standing outside the fire
Life is not tried, it is merely survived
If you're standing outside the fire *