In the last moments of winter

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In Illinois, the vernal equinox officially came at 11:57am. From 11:00 to 11:56, I wrote. I said farewell to a winter that most people hated. It is bittersweet, now, realizing that there was so much beauty that I ignored while I moaned and groaned my way through four arctic blasts. Enjoy. and happy spring.


Goodbye, Dear Winter

In the waning hours
of the Imbolc season
as I watch the last snowflake fall
as I make plans for warm days ahead
I mourn a bit.
Isa is there, shining like a princess movie,
Still. Solid.
Breathtaking.
The beauty was there all along
and I couldn’t wait to get rid of it.
A lesson in humility,
the balance of Jera.
Goodbye, Dear Winter.
May I love you better the next time.

Hope?

Snow
just hours before
the vernal equinox.
Snow!

Love
in the last hours
of winter’s torment.
Love!

Healing
from Mother Earth
when we don’t deserve it.
Healing!

Shame
as we destroy
our very home.
(shame.)

Hope
that we can still change
how we live here.
Hope?

The last 39 minutes

A half-hour is all it takes
to write 7 more poems,
when I could be replanting cucumbers
or giving a hug,
when I could go outside
and enjoy some sol,
when I could clean up puke
or knit that baby’s cap.
But I write.
I am compelled
by earth, by air.
by that stupid fire I can’t control.
by mysterious waters I still don’t get.
So in the final moments of winter,
literally
the last 39 minutes,
I breathe a breath of gratitude.
I’m grateful to have this.
now.
here.

Dear Imbolc, Thank you for…

The pine’s greenery in our hearth.
The day we had a snow walk with our legs buried up to our knees.
The coyote, in life and in dream.
Mediumship, in all its weirdness.
Rhodonite and its protection.
Florida and friends there.
Sweet hugs.
Romantic kisses.
The orange wool knitting that got me through the worst winter of a lifetime.
The love that forgives.
The youth that hopes.
The magic of the runes.
The magic of this moment.
Life that never ends.
Spirit that reminds us.
A community I didn’t know I needed.
The hawks that never leave.
Surprises, even at my age.
Joy, even in winter.

Before the equinox steals the moment

Where did love go?
It was hidden in the prism.
Where was the warmth all winter?
It came through color, sunlight on ice.
We were alone, deserted,
left to endure the winter from hell.
Or were we?
Wasn’t there food and shelter?
Laughter, embraces.
We had so much
and the light never really left us.
So kiss me
now,
before the equinox steals the moment.
Remind me of your warmth
that sustained me through Imbolc.

Fight back

Let her fight back!
We tore at her flesh
and emptied her womb
so let her fight back.

Let her hurl a few blizzards
a few arctic storms.
We deserve it
or worse.

Don’t you dare complain
(even if I am).
Let her work it out
while we take a step back.

Or did we do this to ourselves?

Worthy

I miss color,
from the lavender of spring
to the rust of fall.

The air was sweet,
the smell of lilacs,
the wafting of life-scents.

It could be here again
if the snow ever melts,
if the bees survive.

I could anticipate beauty
while in despair,
while destroying.

Or I could get off my ass,
plant a vegetable,
ride a bike.

Okay, spring equinox
bring it on.
Let us prove ourselves worthy.

[silence]

Silence.
The heater turns off and then…
nothing.

Spring should be boisterous.
Birds, children, wind.
The sun should slap us awake.

But here we are,
driving the commute in silence,
shopping with plastic bags, in silence.

There’s so much noise at the mall
but nothing worth hearing.

Now there’s the sound of a young girl,
the scratching of her crayon on paper.

She colors a rainbow as she hums.

Finally,
we start listening.

Into spring

Into spring
toward joy
anticipating growth
awaiting sunshine.

Out of winter
from the depths
releasing the dark
retaining the mystery.

1 more

15 minutes until spring
6 months of snow
40 degrees outside
1 Hawthorn still mad at me
24 runes to ponder
2 days of moon in Libra
1 little chickadee hopping mad
5 bananas ready to brown
7 Kindle books partially read
10 seconds of pondering this moment
1 burst of sunlight hitting my eyelids
1 more winter in the rearview mirror
1 more spring entering in grace

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