They were “cawing” in the woods beyond my home. I could see them out the window. It was almost as if they were dancing in the trees, being tricksters, and playing games. The trees stick up out of the ground, waiting. Waiting. They are heaving and dark against the cloudy sky. I wait for it to snow again. I am not sure how I feel about the mossy green grass mixed with the decaying leaves that were once so abundant. The trees are reaching for the sun hidden behind the sheet of white, their empty arms wanting the light. But I want snow. And the crows, they dance in the naked trees. I wonder what they are waiting for.
The day after Yule, I could almost notice the longer days. I am so torn, this winter has been a merry-go-round. We have not really had a winter, and for this, I want it to snow. I want to smell the snow, feel the snow on my face and beneath my feet. And yet, I cannot wait until the Sun rules over the land, and plants and animals thrive.
When our sense of spirit is dampened, it is easy to live day-to-day, and let the seasons roll on past. Well, today, that is different. And for Ostara, and Beltane as well. Just because you don’t feel magickal does not mean that magick isn’t happening all around you. Let the trees, and the crows, and the grass speak to you. Ask them what they are feeling, what they are waiting for. Remember that the magick never left. It never left you and it never left the land. The trees and animals are not dead. They are hibernating. They are waiting for the sun.
I have a short poem here that was read at the relighting of Brigid’s flame in Kildare in 1993. It is posted on our website, go to fireflyacademy.org and click on PODCAST. Recite these words, and light a white candle for hope and spiritual awareness. If you are able, sit with your lit candle and gaze out of a window. Use the view and the flame to guide your thoughts. If you cannot keep your candle lit until it burns out, then bury it in the ground.
In the footsteps of Brigid
This is a day for rejoicing.
Fire which burned for a thousand years,
Its ashes cold for centuries,
Restored to new life.
A flame has been lit today,
Flame of hope to guide our way
At dawn, in the busyness of days,
In darkest night.
A light shines out in Kildare
In the name of Brigid, her spirit
Asking for love, justice, peace, truth,
Care of the earth.
A Spring day for rejoicing.
Blessed fire shines out for all to see.
The footsteps of Brigid lead us to your feet
In the face of a tiny snowdrop.
