This is a Prayer for Imbolc. This is a prayer for resistance.
This is a re-post of a blog which was published a couple of days ago. It's worth reading, thinking about. If you're unhappy about our current problems (of any kind) think of how resistance is actually an action, not being passive.
You don't have to wait till November.
Thanks HecateDemeter! Here's the text, but without the formatting.
This is a prayer for Imbolc.
This is a prayer for when roads flood.
This is a prayer for the lingering dark.
This is a prayer for resistance.
We spark the fires to beg the light to return, but we never really
know if it will work. The road may flood; this could be the year it all
falls apart. The February rains may be too much. We fire up the forge
to bend hard metal to our will, but we never really know if it will
work. The road may flood; this could be the year that it all falls
apart. The February rains may be too much. We write the poem to
express what’s inside, but we never really know if it will work. The
road may flood; this could be the year it all falls apart. The February
rains may be too much.
Imbolc is a chance we take, a chance we take in the dark.
This is a prayer for when things fall apart. This is a prayer for
when roads flood. This is a prayer for Imbolc. This is a prayer for the
lingering dark and this is a prayer for resistance.
Brigid, the Goddess of poetry, invented keening for those times when
no words were enough. Shall we now keen? Brigid, the Goddess of smith
craft, invented forges for those times when small flames were not
enough. What shall we now forge? Brigid, the Goddess of healing,
invented beer for those times when water couldn’t cure the deep thirst.
What shall we now toast? Brigid stands in the February rain, a warm
flame in her hand, watching the roads flood. She will neither look away
from the flood nor extinguish the flame.
Imbolc is a chance we take, a chance we take in the dark.
This is a prayer for when things fall apart. This is a prayer for
when roads flood. This is a prayer for Imbolc. This is a prayer for the
lingering dark and this is a prayer for resistance.
The shepherd goes out despite the rain. The shepherd is the
resistance. Without the shepherd, the ewe will miscarry, die in the
mud, bleed to death, deliver the lambkin still. The shepherd sees the
rain, throws on her cloak, and cuts through the meadow. But she never
really knows for sure if it will work. The road may flood; this could
be the year that it all falls apart. The February rains may be too
much. But she still wades towards the ewe. Brigid sees and holds her
flame.
Imbolc is a chance we take, a chance we take in the dark.
This is a prayer for when things fall apart. This is a prayer for
when roads flood. This is a prayer for Imbolc. This is a prayer for the
lingering dark and this is a prayer for resistance.
It’s Imbolc! It’s pouring rain in the lingering dark. The roads
have washed away. The ewes are miscarrying, the forge fires going out.
The poets are throwing down their pens, the yeast has failed the hops.
Who are you in these times? What’s Imbolc to you or you to Her?
Resistance thrives in the lingering dark and flash floods bring forth
new paths. Put on your cloak and wade through the mud. The Goddess
Brigid is holding her flame. The Goddess watches and weighs.
Imbolc is a chance we take, a chance we take in the dark.
This is a prayer for when
things fall apart. This is a prayer for when roads flood. This is a
prayer for Imbolc. This is a prayer for the lingering dark and this is a
prayer for resistance.
...this mess that we are in must come to an end.
ReplyDeleteI've been praying too!
ReplyDeleteIt sounds like a song. Songs are great therapy because we sing them over and over, as much as we need.
ReplyDeleteThis is a prayer for these troubled times, and a call to arms. Thank you for reposting it!
ReplyDeleteWell said!
ReplyDelete