Imbolc 2010

a bit early but here is 'pink flags in a winter garden'
completed today after looking at the garden with is latest light covering of snow

sally

Imbolc

The stillness of ice and water
reflects the depth of soul
trapped in winter solitude
waiting to grow


Lindsey Starborn

Going back in time a bit.....this is a poem for Imbolc from Linsdsay to accompany the Imbolc photographs taken by Liz. There are more beautiful photograhs on Liz's own blog here. Sally

Imbolc afternoon by the Derwent

Liz has sent these beautifully atmospheric photos of her Imbolc walk. More here on her blog Impact Volume Two

I loved the poem in the comments of her post

more...

Between The Lines - Words In A February Pond

Reading you both
the echo of a folk song flies through the winter sunset air and
lands like a snowflake in the middle of a pond made of moonlight

Gentle as the landing is
ripples start to spread across the pond

My young love comes to me
On our wedding day ...

The echo stops there
and I struggle to remember
what else
what next

While I am struggling
a second snowflake drifts from Karl Jenkins' Palladio
and alights on the moonlight pond
mingling and merging with the echo of the folk song

and pushing the musical ripples
further across the platinum waters
that stretch out in front of me

The face of the moon appears between the lines
and I know I don't have to have the words
for the songs to be always mine.

Fi

(As it came, an immediate response to Liz and Roger's words. Thanks honeys!! )

First response...

Saturday Afternoon

snow outside
the bash of rugby on the screen
clever that blue sky
teasing something thats hopeful
when all its breath has been shaping icicles

slow these words
like the hours
a week of time
reduced to allowing nature its head

unlearn, simplify
stand so softly, the moon is at work
watch more often, take less steps
inhale centuries, count your onions.

Roger Drury

Liz thanks for your poem, I hear many voices within it, a group hovering above, lashing tongues to clouds of warm breath, spirit speech bubbles? and music and water cracking and dribbling down rock

a poem and comment that Roger sent in reply/reponse to the previous post...

Imbolc

Imbolc

Brigid whispers softly through chill tar night
Gossamer herald, prophetic promise,
Guardian of spring and Heaul’s healing

Festival fires spark, shadows dance

Snow petals kiss bare earth with icy touch
Disturbed ducks fluster, skimming chill water.
Raven’s craw, clack-chatter in bare roosts

Stalactite cloths cling to hedgerow

Ancient longing fills the stooping spinster
Building hope in her hearth for miracles
Forging the poetry of omens

Maidens honour the straw bride’s bed

Heavy breasted ewes cry to cloud streaked stars
Sprinkled twigs snap as the goddess passes
Her lonely vigil meets dawn’s bleeding

Smoored embers await Brigid’s step

The light bringer’s birch wand protects the chosen
Swollen full moon lights tomorrow’s harsh path
Portents in Brigantii sacred grove

Bridal feast sustain and heal us



E Worlledge
2009

coming home for Imbolc

I came home to celebrate Imbolc at St Antony's Well, deep in the Forest, where

our local sheep are all heavily pregnant and preparing themselves for lambing...

Imbolc, I am told, celebrates the rising Spring energy....

Associated with holy wells, sacred flames, prophesy, healing, Brigid goddess of poetry, sheep and the hag goddess; it was a beautiful sunny day with a waxing Snow Moon in the sky....

the legend associated with the well has it that if you visit on this day and drink the waters, you can predict the weather for the rest of Spring...

I drank deeply, the sky turned yellow and that evening the largest snowfall for 18 years arrived ....

Imbolc closes for us two Sagittarians with a symbolic closing of the door on Winter

Music by Kinobe & Bonobo

"I'm afraid you'll have to do that again Nigel !"

Imbolc next....

Dates – 2nd February (or 26th January if you want to celebrate the Lunar version!)
Celebrating the rising Spring energy.... hurray!
Associated with holy wells, sacred flames, prophesy, healing, Brigid goddess of poetry, sheep and the hag goddess..... among other things.

last year I was in Bali reading the tarot cards...
before that in Scotland contemplating changing my name to the one that my Scottish grandfather always called me ...Sallie...pronounced Sallia.
this is a sketch from that time on the wall in my studio.

Happy Imbolc