In Honor of Imbolc

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  • Religion

    In Honor of Imbolc

    Though not yet seen
    It waits below our feet
    In the air we breathe
    and buried deep within our longing

    The warmth of summer
    not yet dreamed of
    the smell of fall
    hardly yet a memory

    The promise of renewal
    and of new growth
    and of hope reborn
    Spring is on its way.

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    Poetry is either something that lives like fire inside you or else it is nothing, an empty formalized bore around which pedants can endlessly drone their notes and explanations.

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    Malakki’s Poems (6)

    Title Comments
    Title Comments
    Waiting For A Phonecall (that never came) 0
    Wait For It 1
    Limitless Misconception 0
    Breathing Meditation 1
    Free Youth 0
    In Honor of Imbolc 0