Imbolc

Lazy northern wind, it bites
Almost cutting you in two
Howling winter winds torment
Darkest times are almost spent
Days of promise, landscape bright
Evening lighter, shorter nights
Subtle hints of days to come
Shining sun, rain and snow
It’s time to plant our wishes
And watch them as they grown
Brighid, goddess of the land
Patroness of poetry and bards
Inspire us, both in word and in deed
Heal us, now that winter fades away
The lambs are born in icy fields
Count your blessings, count the yield
Omens for what the future holds
Grow in strength of sacred sun
I see faces in the flames
Ever moving in the haze
Purify the land
With cleansing fire
The fire of spirit shines through her eyes
Her inner fire touches the sun
Inspiration, see and guide
Lead us through the sacred spiral