Spring Equinox in New York

Spring comes to New York City in thigh-high snow boots, pockets full of pomegranate seeds and the sprouting hopes of Winter’s dead. Some shoot frigid thoughts her way, but Crocuses and Dogwoods stretch their roots under icy soil, and bloom. The wild Witch dances barefoot in snow, heating this mad world from the inside out. Frozen tears melt into dirt, and Spring shrouds Winter with songs of buzzing bees and butterfly kisses… to come.

frosty March
chilling flesh and bone,
but souls spring

.
the wee notes…
– Remnants from our last snowstorm are dirty piles on the ground. So, I’m not celebrating this Spring Equinox in my traditional witchy way—walking in the woods as the sun rises, searching for spring sprouting through dead leaves, listening to birds sing of mating and fighting and of whose plumage is most impressive. On this first day of spring, I shall be Aries wild, and celebrate her coming by playing with my books, thinking of seeds, singing offkey, dancing… right after my limbs stop feeling stiff enough to snap (say that 13 times fast).
– Pomegranate Seeds ~ in Greek Mythology, spring doesn’t start until Persephone returns from the Underworld. Soon after her return, it is discovered that her stay won’t be permanent—she ate pomegranate seeds while she was there.
– Linked to the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads ~ Tuesday Platform.

Wishing you a delicious Spring Equinox, my Wicked Luvs.

The Return of the Fire

Donna’s bell-shaped sleeves looked dangerously flammable.

I should’ve warned her. But I suspected she was too angry with me to listen to criticism or care about fire safety. She had asked me to wear a ceremonial robe to her Imbolc celebration, and I showed up in a red sundress and old combat boots.

“Ten bucks the fire department shows up tonight.”

“That’s terrible,” I said to the green-eyed stranger standing next to me, and wondered if he had read my thoughts. “I’m sure we can put her out before she flames on.”

We laughed, our hands over our mouths to disguise the mirth.

“Fire!” someone screamed.

I leapt to my friend’s aid, but stopped before I got to her. The High Priestess had snuffed out the flames. And thank goodness for that, since I was still laughing.

.
the wee notes…
– This is an oldie but goodie, a bit of truth (barely) dressed up as fiction… since the friend in question still glares when anyone brings up the flaming sleeves incident. And yes, I bring it up every chance I get. It’s just such a yummy way to celebrate The Return of the Light *cackles*.
– First published here. There was a bit of nipping and tweaking, but nothing significant.

via

Kissing Winter

Over at the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, Gillena asked us to collaborate for the Holiday Season. So, of course, I flew to the Poetry Foundation, borrowed two lines from “The Snow Fairy”, by Claude McKay: “My heart was like the weather when you came/The wanton winds were blowing loud and long”, added my own bits, and the result is… well, collaborative poetry.

“Kissing Winter”

Between you and me, Yule
is love, bedecked and solsticed
with a caress happily waning
and kisses waiting to be born.

I heard you shout into winter;
and my heart was like the weather when you came,
the wanton winds were blowing loud and long.

I feel you, my all… as the sun
and I sing of miracles and rebirth.

Between you and me, Yule
kissing winter

and mistletoe.

“Winter Love”, by Nico Wittgens
via