Imbolc

Imbolc

Brighid has come out of the hill

Bleak are the fields

Stretching to the horizon

Barren the trees

Under a leaden sky

Burdened is my soul

With its load of empty thoughts

Beat for beat

My heart labours on

Cold wind, cold air

Chill me to the bone

Cailleach the Crone

Craddles me close

Burning in my soul

Is a glowing ember

Blinding me almost

As it bursts into flame

Bright Brighid

Bountiful maiden

Bearing so many gifts

Bringing hope and joy

Two and yet one

Old and young

Wisdom and strength

Gifts without measure

 

Posté avec Blogsy

Alabaster

I am I am
I am I am
I am a vessel of stone…Standing there quietly, waiting patiently.
Slowly the master chissels away, bits here and bits there
Sometimes it hurts, and I want him to stop.
He pauses for a while and then, delicately,
lovingly, he lifts his chissel.
After years in darkness, I can see light.
There is nothing above my head
but the starry night sky now.
My eyes drink in the sight
of blue and silver and gold.
Around me there is a liquid,
warm, thick, nourishing water,
softening colours and shapes.
I turn around, around my self,
around my Self, around…
Water fills the chalice,
all the way up
all the way down.
It comes from a source
deep in the ground
where the stars live also
welling up in the chalice
keeping me floating,
breathing,
dreaming.
I am a vessel
of stone
White stone, Limestone
Transformed
Under pressure
Into
Alabaster