Winters Moon

Many years ago I wrote a poem at this dark time of year. Imbolc is an old ancient ritual that recognised the importance of the hidden awakening of spring. Awakening into our own new life new spring and new beginnings still goes unseen as we await the first signs of spring coming.

Imagination with inspiration

The mothers hand of creation

Forever holding

The eternal enfolding

A waken with the goddess breath

Never ending at the death

Sleep to passing memories

Begin a new melody

Fresh new birth

Blossen flower to burst

The gentleness has awoke

But not yet spoke

New beginning of hope.

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