Imbolg
She is cloaked in moments
glittering gems of rescued
time
on a gauze of twilight, in
the grand stretch of an
evening
Her eyes bring light to the
day
green as a new bud fighting
for life beneath hard cold
soil
reaching to greet the silvered
dawn
Her voice is the poetry of
the wind
metred in short stanzas
the breath of new life and
fresh air
as we call her into our homes
She perfumes the air with
smoke
burning it clean from the
winter's decay
It is a prayer to her, a
blessing
curling itself into the
corners.
O! Brìd. You are the one that
we need
You are the dream that we
cherished
in the dark and the lean
in the belly of the turning
year
Copyright: Geraldine Moorkens Byrne 2023
Image: by Geraldine Moorkens Byrne on Flickr, February 8, 2009.
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