Wealth and Death in Autumn

by Earl Wajenberg

Hail, Unseen Lord, Host of Many Guests, Hades if so please it you to be called, Pluto, Arawn, Abaddon, Yama, Nergal. We, your ancient servants, the daimons Wealth and Death, escort your wife, Dread Persephone, goddess of the grave, to her happy home with you. The sign of Virgo leads us here, lighting our way with Spica, Star of Grain. We bring you our report.

Grain and fruit die now and yield their riches to the markets and the warehouses. Life leaves its open habitations and moves to seed in soil, beast in burrow, hidden eggs that shrug off ice. Some simply flies to southern lands. Much flies to you, to find its long home. Prepare, Lord, to receive this year’s life, latest layer on your deep-founded hoard.

Lord, bid the bones be gilded, the wills be read, the beasts be slaughtered and cooked! Garland the tombs and set gems in the sockets of every skull. Yield to every child-monster its plunder of candy as it roams the dark, wearing horror for a joke. Lead the Totentanz through fields of buried treasure to the scales before your judgment seat where the life of the year is cashed out in harvest.

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