Sun rises and casts away a bleak, cold day. Where wandered far and wide the chill winds that enslaved the land, the young rays of early spring begin to tease new life into being. Trees sway to a new rhythm, their leaves still a thought not yet budding into the creative unfolding of physicality. A mere whispering of potential buried deep within the memory of the heart of the sylvan sentinels.
Their branches begin to sway to a new song where the words of conception and possibility arise and alight upon the soaring rays of suns fair hand that ignites the bosom of earth below. A tantalizing caress that belies the passion smouldering within each glance cast between earth and her lover who soars amidst the vast untold sapphire of skies above.
An ancient dance that goes beyond the memory of man. The Flower of Life that is entwined within the joining of celestial body that illuminates that which is hidden and the feminine sacredness of She who knows many callings and yet truly cannot be named as any or one thing.
In all life there answers the beat of tides changing. Where the old moon fades making way for the bright new dawn of day and the rising of the veiled new moon. Night warms and the harshness of winters eve bows before the hazy skies that shade the stars with waves of a lingering summer heat that begins to draw near.
In the deep dark of the loam, dreaming of fresh rains and space to stretch forth, there slumbers the seeds of summers past, the children borne to fruit of the union of the earth and her consort. Uncurling, shoots unfurling, to the surface they gaze chasing dreams of untold measure where the seed of life gives rise to existence unimagined. Called forth by their maker, called forth into being by love, a symphony bursts in unparalleled wonder above the curve Danu.
Spring wakes and bounds with joyous step, masked in hues of purple, blue, yellows and colours beyond imagining in the guise of flower and leaf and green shoots of growth. The song of the land is felt in the stirring of new life, a resonance that utters promise of beginnings leading to fruition. Swathes of tender grass sway to the tune while the great trees that strike upwards towards the skies tremble in rhythmic patterns of fresh vigour.
The great song of creation is heard in the voices of birds that flock to answer the calling. The vibration of living is felt in the mountain streams that rush with renewed purpose to the great waters of the far beyond. Delicate bells of flowers grace the land as spring is known to all and young lives emerge from den and egg and arms enveloping into the lengthening days that mark the return of long awaited bounty.
The dance of union between lovers and the encouragement of a mother to her children is not to be forgotten neither to be ignored. For it is unto us the stirrings of our being. To Her we smile in knowledge of the sacred circle that unfolds to bring existence to the vehicle of our body.
So it begins once more. As it does with the ending of every cycle, so it begins anew. In this moment I see the stirrings of a story far greater than I may ever weave – the story that is life and the breath of spirit witnessed in the foundations of origins, not to be understood, but to be felt and heard and sung to the generations that will follow.