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Blessed Imbolc
While winter is pretty much guaranteed to last longer here in Vermont, Imbolc is still a wonderful day. We've reached the point where the days are noticeably longer than they were and the return of the light is a glorious thing. And may all those who celebrate have a Blessed Imbolc (or Lammas for my friends in the Southern hemisphere).
Since Imbolc is often the start (or near the start) of sugaring season (when the Maple trees are tapped and the collected sap boiled down into syrup), it seems fitting to write a poem about that. :D For those interested the form is an etheree, which is a very fun short form to work with.
Sugar Light
Strike
a match
to candle,
to stove. Lengthened
days still short, still cold.
But soon the sap will run,
liquid amber drips into pails;
boiled down, bottled liquid gold.
A sweet reminder of sun and warmth.
Sugar on snow means Spring's awakening.
Since Imbolc is often the start (or near the start) of sugaring season (when the Maple trees are tapped and the collected sap boiled down into syrup), it seems fitting to write a poem about that. :D For those interested the form is an etheree, which is a very fun short form to work with.
Sugar Light
Strike
a match
to candle,
to stove. Lengthened
days still short, still cold.
But soon the sap will run,
liquid amber drips into pails;
boiled down, bottled liquid gold.
A sweet reminder of sun and warmth.
Sugar on snow means Spring's awakening.