Imbolc

Nature rises: awakening,
Gently, slowly: stirring.
Winter's deepest dark,
Receding as we embark,
Once more on life's wheel.
For new ideas we feel,
For new paths we rove,
To find a pleasant grove.
To watch the sleeping earth,
Now astir from earlier dearth.
Once more to grow and flourish,
And for our hopes to nourish.
And the resurgent Goddess's calling,
For to give us blessing.