OSTARA

Anon shall the Goddess emerge

from the Great Below,

clad in veils of dreams she wove

in snow-kissed slumbers.

Into the ascending Light shall she

rise upon the iridescent

mist of gentle Spring showers, her

colours breathe into the winds. 

Winter's last shadows melt into the

the returning Sun's soft

brilliance. Silken strands of palest

gold sigh o'er the forest

floors, sparkling spirals swirl 'pon 

burgeoning brooks.

Silver strains of birth, of renewal and

hope, shall resound o'er 

Earth's children, kindling the inner

flame in ev'ry bloom,

sweetest songs in ev'ry bird's throat,

drawing all Creation

into her vein of expression.

Defer to the Great Mother, for now

she would touch the

pinnacle of her joy! E'en the stars

crave a glimpse of her 

glowing, vivifying splendour, yearn

to rest in her sweet embrace.

© 2015 Lily's Verse

Lilium Candidum

Image: www.5mhrm.com

Image: thecelticjourney.wordpress.com