Imbolc
This is a piece of creative writing based on the prompt "the end of darkness". It made me think of the early February pagan celebration of Imbolc (pronounced IM-blk) and the Irish goddess Brigid.
We struggle our way through harsh, smothering darkness
Bitter cold, the kind that burrows into bones
Burns fingertips and forces tears from eyes
A magpie’s shadow flits past the edge of vision.
We should stay tucked away at home with our small pleasures:
Warm beverages, soft blankets, a pile of books to read.
It would well serve our bodies, minds and souls
To be permitted to rest, to restore and replenish.
We’ve created strict systems, and structures and strategies
Expected to be sustained and embraced year-round,
As if our soft, animal bodies have become immune
To the cycle of nature, the wheel of the year.
In early February a lone candle is lit, a beacon to remind us
That the earth will turn towards the sun once more,
The small, persistent flame marks the end of the deepest darkness
And the goddess prepares to lead us forth.
Hope always returns, seeping in around the edges,
Witnessed in earlier sunrises, in snow-melt and in softer breezes,
We just need to get through these last few weeks
And follow Brigid’s call through the tapering snow.