THE KEEPERS OF IMBOLC (by: Deva A.M. Bluewing)


In silence they gather
Black robed against the Blacker
Waning Winter night
The Keepers of Imbolc

Tapers aglow with Faerie Fyre

They descend from the high forests

To the gentle fields of farming folk

Because the time draws nigh

Clasping each the other's hands
They dance through the darkness
All to-ing-and-fro-ing
With upturned faces
(Common eye hath never seen)

Faint silver-blue

Shimmering grows about them

The air is electric

Fertile with Love, Pregnant with Life

Beneath the soft white Quilting
Within the womb of Earth
The shimmering penetrates
Calling
A seed's shell
Cracks!

Blue-silver fading
Hands thrown high
In the instant b'twixt night and light
Dancing shadows dissolve 
And upon the Sun's first ray
A whispered, "So Mote It Be...