February

February

Dedication at Imbolc

 

In the belly of darkness I wait,

Still and listening to my own heart beat.

Feeling the rhythm of my breath

That warms my Mother’s swollen womb.

It is the day of first awakening

Imbolc

And the milk of life flows in the Dagda’s heavy breasts.

Gusty winds whip through the frozen hazel branches;

Winterberries bright

As the cardinals dance and cry

“Brighid!”

Back in the barn the oxen bellow

The bleating of new lambs breaks the silence of the chill dawn air

As my Mother midwives their winter births.

“Brighid!”

In the wood the old boar prances in a restless stir

While beyond the barren field blackened with foraging grackle

The sun just rises

A fiery arrow

Pink and fierce

Like the hardened nipples of the Maiden in bud

Bathing in the promise of spring.

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