Imbolc

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The acres of winter wheat rolled as ocean waves. They invited me to dance, mermaid of the fields. The summer harvest left a five o’clock shadow and the buttery scent of hay. I mourned the loss till the snow arrived. Sledding towards the icy ponds I reveled, the winter princess.

Imbolc arrived with seed cakes, puddings and the scent of vanilla. I walked under my veil towards the bower. He stood waiting, his hot breath staining the winter night.

The goddess called to me; plant red lipped poppies. I answered with blessing seeds, milky moonlight on the scattered darkness. Feed the soul with milk from the breast and fertile winter wheat. And I wrapped you in my arms, head to breast, my heartbeat in your ear.