Beneath the round clear moon with silvery stripes
Twirl around the sylphs, ascending like magic
From herbs of land, in infinite garlands
The people this evening celebrate the new year.
Winter marks the soil with its white chill
And the wind which engulfs between skinny trees
With strength and passion twirls around branches
When it doesn’t weak in a keen wind…
No matter bad weather for those in great joy
Because the new light, growing day after day
In an earlier dawn, with fine silky rays
Whom thousands lives draw from and nourish.
Nature celebrates Imbolc where all is purified
Under the rule of Brigid and Belisama
Receiving offerings from future initiates
And Druids in circle bless water of joy…
Memories of Avalon-Gleams of Imbolc © Chantal Duros aka Eny
