Thursday, January 31, 2008

Imbolc haikus

a mist of ewes' breath
warm, steamy, smelling of hay
— her hands on the teat

small delicate hands
grasping the slippery teat
— milk froths in the pail

she sings so softly —
in tune with the squirting milk
that rings on the pail.

new-born lambs bleating
staggering on new limbs
— afterbirth in the grass.

life, so fragile
nuzzling into udders
— warmed by the spring sun.

on the cold hillsides,
every year the miracle —
frisky and tender.

lady of healing
of poetry and smithcraft
— white swan on the lake

the foster-mother
of many births — of story,
renewal and art.

fire in the belly,
life after abundant life —
the surge of the sap.

fire on the hearth-stone,
quiet, solemn ritual —
making Bride's bed.

first stirrings of Spring
it's so good to be alive —
year's awakening.

soft almond blossom
pale stars on the bare branches —
the dance unfolding.

— Yvonne Aburrow

Part of the third annual poetry reading in honour of Brighid

My offering last year


Malcolm said...

Haiku's can be so expressive of facets of nature (the strict syllabic count seems to add an extra potency!) and these succeed perfectly.

Also read it through as one poem - it flows quite beautifully that way too.

Happy Imbolc

ambermoggie said...

really expresses imbolc for me, thank you:)

Bo said...

That is really impressive. I loved it!
Hope you're well