Imbolc Swimrise – a poem
Imbolc Swimrise
Imbolc. I mbolg, in the belly.
In the belly of the sea,
I bobbed
Like a bottle carrying a message whispered
To the dawn sky,
To the wind-whipped tide dancing in the pink light,
To the choppy flowing sea.
Another world is possible
Is féidir saol eile
Salt tears, body of water
In the belly of the sea.
In the belly, i mbolg. Imbolc
My Imbolc swimrise on 1st February inspired this wee poem. Here it is recorded as spoken word poetry.
On the Sunday before Imbolc, I took part in a New Moon fire circle, with a dozen other women – some close friends, most of them unknown.
It all started with a stunning sunrise swim, because who’s to resist the call of the sea when she is purring and waving and inviting like this?
I swam out into the sun, I floated on my back, I dunk-dived beneath the waves.
It was a sunrise swim to let go of old stories, to shed outgrown skins, to trust that I am held.
Brigid’s Day, on 1st February, marks the beginning of spring in the Celtic calendar. After yoga and after attempting to weave a Brigid’s cross, I set my intentions alight in the fire.
Imbolc, “i mbolg, in the belly”, was nearly here. Coming out of wintering, I could feel the fire in my belly, the need to begin again, with clear dreams and intentions. Moving joyfully, playfully, into the energy of spring – a renaissance, athbeochan in Irish. Literally, “rebirth”.
So be it! See to it!
Another world is possible
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