Imbolc 2021

Walking in the woods is a way
for my mind to meet my heart,
When they have been separated by too
many thoughts.

It is unusual for me to set out on a walk with an intention.
Today I did for Imbolc.

I sifted through many prayers to Brigid
This one felt appropriate for me…

"Bride of the earth,
sister of the faeries,
daughter of the Tuatha de Danaan,
keeper of the eternal flame.
In autumn, the nights began to lengthen,
and the days grew shorter,
as the earth went to sleep.
Now, Brighid stokes her fire,
burning flames in the hearth,
bringing light back to us once more.
Winter is brief, but life is forever.
Brighid makes it so."

I slipped my headphones on
And listened to a playlist
Dedicated to Imbolc
And headed out.

Sharp cold greeted me
And I followed my feet
Crunching on the cold
pressed snow.

I thought it might take a while
To find just the right tree to
Tie the red ribbon for Brigid.
It was almost immediate.
It was beautiful, solid and spread out
Each branch was laden with clumps of snow.


I chose a branch and tied my red ribbon
Music thrummed in my ears,
Myth by Beach House.
The sun peaked through the branches
It was perfect.
Chickadees flitted about, and I stuck
An offering of seed in the knot of the ribbon.
It was accepted!
Oh, My heart.
It burst like the sun, and
tears of joy threatened to freeze on my cheek.
It was a perfect moment.


I could say this was it, but it isn’t.
I walked on, and as it was Saturday
And still in a pandemic,
There were many people, driven outdoors by the sunshine,
exploring places they haven’t before.

They looked like people who
Just finished watching a
two and half hour movie
In a cinema,
A little chilled, squinting
and unsure of where they are.
But each and everyone of them
Would flash a brilliant smile my way
And smiled at each other,
Touching trees, pointing,
playing and laughing.
So much joy sparkling like the
sun dancing on frozen icicles
Or like the tinkling sound of running
Water weaving its way out snow and rock
Giggling its way to the river.

We may be frozen still
But Brigid still gifts us
With the promise of spring
and rebirth of love.

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