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Imbolc

February 1st, 2009

Imbolc

Stop.

Listen.

The wind is whispering

“Winter is sleeping silently but Spring is near.”

In the silence

I can hear

Her breathe

And the stirs of things to come.

As the branches of trees transform from

The crone’s bone fingers to the maidens lush hair

I wait

And learn.

For in this silence

I keep

Wisdom close

From in the darkness

Comes life

I am life

We use you for glue

Maybe for tape

Use you for everything

We take and take

Use you to learn

And for morals

Ignoring our own

Dying like coral

Our seas are sick

Our planet is weak

We use everything

Trickles become leaks

If you could speak

Would we change?

Or would we ignore

Suffering and pain

Why not

We are doing it now

Our planet is screaming

In swirls of dark clouds

Her children are dying

As we stand alone

Immune from what we cause

Until it’s our flesh and bone

I hear you cry

As I lie awake

The future is told

In past mistakes

Rainbows and birds

Darkness fills the colors

As the sky begins to clear

I hear the birds

And know the town is near

I shall play my concertina

With some luck

I will eat tonight

As the butterfly whispers

Like the promise in the sky

And the beauty that surrounds me

On this bank

I will someday see.

Hold my hand

And together we’ll walk

Towards  life

A promise.

Beautiful Things

I could fill my house

With beautiful things

Fill my house with

All those Witchy like things

Altars and candles

Cloaks and tools

Gems and stones

Incense and Runes

Oils and potions

That heel my woes

Spells and chants

Chase the sorrows

All of these things

Beautiful and yet

The power of such

Please don’t forget

Comes not from a spell

A Candle, a gem

Comes not from without

But from within

My house is full

Of beautiful things

Of dirty faces

That need to be cleaned

Dishes in the sink

Laundry to be done

I look at my children

I am full of love

And the most beautiful things

Are not things indeed

These tiny footsteps

Will someday see

A heart is the most

Beautiful “thing” of all

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