SeaHeart

Who will go down to those shady groves,
And summon the shadows there,
And tie a ribbon on those sheltering arms,
In the springtime of the year?

The songs of birds seem to fill the wood
That when the fiddler plays...
All their voices can be heard
Long past their woodland days.

~ Loreena McKennitt, "The Mummers' Dance"

~*~

Like a cat, I stretch and awaken in the sun, crawling out from my long winter's dreaming. Everything is waking up, the blood rushes in the trees, the ground splits apart as tiny seeds discover their own courage. The fae creatures rouse themselves and lend their powers to the roots and buds, tiny hopes of leaves and blades of grass. The magic is coming back, waking up, flowing like the beating heart of earth that jubilantly unfurls to the beauty and raw possibility of spring.

The deep pain of what happened in my Forest Temple is fading, replaced by quiet and expectation. Out of everything fallen, something rises. Tomorrow night, I will do a blessing ceremony--a cleansing ritual to wipe the hurt and pain from the place. I will then plant a beautiful baby tree, the little fir that Jenn gave me, fittingly, for Yule, and will give a bit of love and life back to the space. I will call upon the guardians of that beloved temple, the very guardians of the earth, to watch as I work the rite. And magic will be made, by my will, and that of the Goddess.

We stand here, at the threshold of a brand new, living year. I'm filled with joy, with hope, with the deep love of all the growing things, come back, reborn, rebirthed.

Every second of every day, I dream of the Fairie Festival, I plan our costumes, I bask in the warm earth, I treasure my tiny seedlings, I water the plants, I tend the bulbs, I plan all of the yardwork needed...I am a child of the earth, warmed and awakened by the sun, touched and healed and loved by the plants I touch and heal and love in return.

Everything in the cycle, everything returning.

Hail, Spring, hail Persephone, beautiful maiden returning.

Hail, myself, fully awakened.

Hail perfect, beautiful earth. I love you~ <3

~*~

You didn't come into this world.
You came out of it,
like a wave from the ocean.
You are not a stranger here.
~ Alan Watts

~*~

Easter and Ostara is, after Samhain, my favorite Sabbat. I am Polish, and my family has always made a Very Big Deal about Easter. Ostara is a long festival for me, stretching from the Vernal Equinox to the actual date of Easter, with everything put in between. Friday is my Forest Temple ritual, Easter morning, I will do one (as tradition speaks~) beneath the arms of my beloved tree on my parents' farm (Magnata, the one who has sheltered me since childhood). Friday evening will also involve a trip to the Broadway Market to pick up Easter feast fixings (and a side trip to the health food store for my vegan Kielbasa. XD). I'll take a trip through the ravine, watch the rushing stream, check the apple orchard blossoms and on the old cherry tree (that still cradles me, on occasion, as I write). I'll walk through the horse pastures, take a cart ride with my mother and the geldings, watch the Ten Commandments with my family (and bask in the glow that is Nefretiri XD) and dance the old dances and those of the new.

What are the signs of awakening spring in your area? What do you love best about this time of year? What calls to you?