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Honoring the Gifts of Winter’s Depth

Blessings upon the Court of Winter as she turns back into the belly of earth, the wise crone of all that is unseen and dreaming.

 

 

The very old mountain with one starlit eye, sleeping.

 

As we approach Imbolc and the dawning of Swan Bhride at the 15th degree of Aquarius on Sunday, I reconcile with the medicine of snow woman, my Cailleach.

 

My dear dear Cailleach. I am a child of winter after all.

 

I honor the gifts of this winter’s depth. This was a depth I had to dream a new. I had to go alone. It hurt like physical exercise. My muscles were digging, running, swimming.

 

This winter brewed a grandmother medicine that was bitter and thick like molasses. It proved to be honey upon my heart. Many shadows to uncover, illusions to snuff, and wounds to provide balm.

 

My creative juices ran as though they were still catching up, and the sleep was strong but not quite as nourishing as I am custom to receiving from grandmother.

 

She didn’t let me forget what I am meant to be creating. She called me across worlds again and again.

 

Whispering even now how there is still work to be done. I am in a high season of matriarch and it is my table that the children gather to eat upon. This is my prime and fruitful opportunity for fertility. My life is just now beginning.

 

I must respond. The initiation demands.

 

And the dreaming has thorns; prickly while ripe.

 

 

The restfulness is coming now with the dawn of Bride light. Yet I still dream more nights within the grace of grandmother winter.

 

I won’t rush away from her. I take up space in the womb cave. My bear family is starting to fumble around. They will be hungry. I ponder and push into the darkness once more.

 

These days are like 5 more minutes. The short rest in the dawn where gifts for truth shine bright against the myst greening meadow.

 

I sing to my Cailleach, my calling. It’s now all beginning. The whisper is heard and the veil is thinning.

 

Blessings as the transformation of the swan begins again, and again.


Written By Eliza Maora