IMBOLC - Agnus in utero

 

A FIRE FESTIVAL.

Look to our spring’s first stir in the ground

Push back winter under its blanket white

As seedlings ache sore for early light

In dreams they remember her pleasure .

With antler picks and bodies bent we dig

From matter tough and dense a pool

Proofed by tanned beasts hide

Water sealed with oil paste

A precious black gold from the east.

Milk of young cows and spring water

Herbal lays of seed flower and stem

Maids of season ready did lower down

Accept freely magic from the ground

Spread over pushed up in woodland scrub

 On river banks and meadows new green

 lurking in high abundance coloured glorious

 The scent of wild violets sweet.

In plain sight see celandines buttercup bright

A splash of crocuses a wash of daffodils gold

And carpet fitted snowdrops white

Butter bar cones wood sorrel pink veined

Coltsfoot creeping by primroses banked high.

Yet early in our cycle snow not gone

Huge fires blaze out to blind night sight

In candle lit trails we process along

Our song rings out for her pleasure.

Yes Danu our goddess barefoot glides

In footprints seedlings raise their heads

As she steers her pleasure to husband’s measure

A bringing of gods in sun and fertility.

We bring spring by cleansing

We rake grey fire ash fine

Take the pledge its new omens we seek.

We want no good weather here

For we know should pause be granted

Then gods in time can gather wood

To fuel their fires our winter to prolong.

So on this ancient Groundhog Day

All gather for weather’s tale to unwrap

Watch holes in ground for Aubrey sought

So will badger or serpent emerge

The first all futures will foretell.

We hold in warmth our woman’s fire

But he will no permit ever be granted

For half a millennium it has burned

Not a trace of ash ever seen.

So kiss now the first crocus flower head up

Make every home a candle lit feast

Draw image of sun in the snow white

look to the south for spring’s renewal.

 © david Fry June 15th 2018