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