Imbolc is a time when nature is deep into Winter with
the first stirrings of Spring appearing. This poem, Dreaming,
is a tree-grok poem of this time of the year from the point
of view of the trees around us.
Shooting Star
Dreaming – Winter – Imbolc
winter is long – our dreams refresh us
slumber we do and softly we snore
some can hear us – special they are
sap slows and thickens for the season to come
with imbolc we rest
and dream of our feathered friends
we feel the warm sun on our bark
we dream the warm rains of spring
thick snows clothe us
forest totems we have become
winter winds whip through our branches
the sound whistling in our dreams
our dreams refresh us
and restore us for the season to come
we dream of future bounty
ready we are for spring
Awen's Light Grove 