Bright Blessings for Imbolc - another poem

My ribbon to be blessed with Brigid's passing is a radiant orange this year...a color of healing and warmth and strength...

My second poem offering is one written by my late mother, whose birthday is February 5. 
She was particularly proud of this poem. It was published in Western Carolina University's art/literary magazine Nomad for 1992.  The poetry juror was Mary Oliver (who also has a poem in this issue.)

Winter Song

On chilly evenings
we three sisters sat
in front of the fireplace
with our father
while he took turns
rocking us and telling stories.
I remember the night
he told my oldest sister
that she reminded him
of the donkey in Aesop's fable
who tried to sit
on his master's lap
like a dog and then he said
she was getting too big to rock
and he wouldn't do it anymore
except with the smaller ones.
I remember how she left
and went out into our big farm
kitchen in the dark
and he found her sobbing,
wiping her wet cheeks
on the linen roller towel
beside the door,
and how he grabbed her
and hustled her back
to the old platform rocker.
holding her on his lap,
he draped her long legs
over the arm of it
and wiped away her tears
with his pocket handkerchief
as he continued to rock and rock.

----George-Anna Harbeson Carter


My mother adored her father and throughout my life I heard her stories of him. I only met him once, in a dream.  I have dozens of letters of his, as well as a big stack of his writing, both published and not. Same with my mother. Posting this poem of Momma's reminds me that I really need to finish editing the book of poems she was working on when she became so ill with Alzheimer's. I promised her.  Calling on Brigid for blessings on this poetry project is probably a wise first step!

May we all have the gifts of poetry, be rocked in the healing warmth of Brigid's fire.
Blessed be.