Oh my Savior,

Candlemas Day c.1901 by Marianne Stokes 1855-1927
Candlemas Day by Marianne Stokes, 1901. Tate collection. CC-BY-NC-ND 3.0 (Unported)

I have never celebrated Candlemas,
this day your blessed Mother
brought baby You to the temple to be blessed.
I’ve never blessed candles on this day,
although legend tells me it is an auspicious day to do so.
Neither have I celebrated Imbolc,
which the internet tells me means
“in the belly” and has something to
do with the beginning of lambing season.
I have not noticed new life, beginning to stir but
not yet visible to the naked eye.

Nor have I celebrated Groundhog’s Day
– also today- unless you count
rolling my eyes at the guys in tall hats who are
manhandling that poor animal.
I have not been happy to see the clouds,
I’m always looking past them for the sun beyond.

The snow and the rain beat down and
yet, here I am, halfway between
the winter solstice and the spring equinox.
So why not celebrate, after all?
Why not light a candle and
rejoice in the circle of light;
look for the new life that’s still a seedling in the belly of earth and
give thanks;
bless the clouds that hide
my shadow and
pay attention to the promise that
Spring is coming, soon, soon, soon?


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