Living In Your True Inheritance – Blessed Imbolc
Regardless of the self-destruction of the fossilized old era and its drama and shadows, the time of rebirth and renewal is here. Blessed Imbolc.
Regardless of the self-destruction of the fossilized old era and its drama and shadows, the time of rebirth and renewal is here. Blessed Imbolc.
Honoring the Lady of Healing, Poetry, and the Forge, I offer this gorgeous poem by Barbara Flaherty, from an essential book of Brigid’s devotions.
There is so much I could say about this bountiful, ancient festival time. And for years, I have. But I think this poem is the finest distillation.
My vaccine against the contagion is Beauty. Here is a brief poetic contemplation in this time of uncertainty. May our new lives be compassionate.
In troubled times, we might witness our hearts breaking. But then we pick up the pieces, remembering how to heal and reconnect with beauty and love.
Praises to the Goddess. “All the Earth waits for the chorus of our voices.” May this 2020 International Women’s Day be blessed for one and all.
A praise-song for the Beloved, to help us remember our roots, our sustenance, and our vision. And especially our calling to be here at this time.
Poet Deborah Gregory kindly granted her permission to share this poem of hers today, inspired by these magical in-between days leading up to Solstice.
Each Lughnasadh, it’s my tradition to share this sublime Mary Oliver poem. Let the immeasurable come.
Let the unknowable touch the buckle of my spine.
Last year, I wrote a retraction (of sorts) regarding the snakes vs. Patrick on this holiday. This year, weary of squabbles, I offer an alternative.