St. Brigid's Day Poem

-->

IMBOLC, AT THE WELL

Water soothe my burning head; fire

stream o’er the rocks, through crevices

of my frozen will.

Bark and lichen

silt and earth,

steady the pilgrim way.

Water, receive these weary feet.

Bless this brow, these eyes,

these cheeks.

Laurel and pine

hide my grief

in the weft of bough and leaf.

Weave me a new fabric

Whisper to me of tomorrow.

(copyright Cathy Larson Sky 2/02/2009)