Imbolc

imbolc

Celebrate with kindled flame, cold recedes her spirit broken,

Winter will not be the same, when the warmth of Spring is spoken.

Half-way through the dark times, comes the light renewed and growing

Icicles shiver like broken chimes, As the farmer dreams of sowing.

Hail to Brigid, foretelling  Spring, though Winter snow will thrust and blow–

Let your heart burst free and sing, the gladsome song that all will know.

Spring is waiting just below, waning Winter moans and sighs

Pushing upward, melting snow, flowers burst to feast our eyes.

~nilla~

(picture credit here)