With a new broom in hand,
the Goddess of Spring returns
to sweep through our house,
waking us from winter’s dream,
as the wheel of the year turns.
Father Sun is in the sky,
yet his warmth does not reach
our hopeful, upturned faces.
February
All the trees hold their breath
as the winter storms arrive,
bringing in swirls of snow
until sheep, heavy with lamb,
disappear without a trace.
Winter teaches us detachment
with her brooding silence,
save the quarrelsome winds.
January
Praise be! The old year has gone,
we are ready to be born again
here, in the dead of winter,
where saplings are pulled for space
and the stirring season begins.
Slowly, in this bright new year,
new beginnings take shape
as the light of day lengthens on.
Welcome Mother Light
Burn all the clocks,
set light to the solstice bonfire,
hang the season’s wreath
as we pause between
dark and the return of light.
Let the passing of time begin,
lay down the year
gently, like a new-born child.