BRIDGET'S APELLATIONS

 

Named Bridget at this time of Imbolc,

time when howling winter winds torment

tips of trees, snowdrops huddle near roots.

 

Named Bridget at this time of ewe's milk,

the first succour to the first born life,

sustenance after dark gestation.

 

Named Bridget at this time of small light,

growing, extending itself each day

inexorably sure of increase.

 

Named Bridget, forge mistress of smithcraft,

fashioning with fire our fragments,

disparate parts, hammering them whole.

 

Named Bridget, muse-guide to all poets

who call upon her inspiration,

give voice to promptings, as yet untold.

 

Named Bridget, earth mother of the land,

midwife who brings forth our intentions,

our dreams for the coming year's cycle.

 

Called Bridget, Imbolc or Candlemas,

we acknowledge change without, within.

Light is rising, earth will enliven.

 

Kaaren Whitney

Imbolc 2008

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