Saturday, 1 February 2025

Imbolc Cyberspace Poetry Slam


Today is Imbolc, a pagan holiday which celebrates, not Spring per se, but rather, the promise of Spring. It is also the sacred day of Brigid the Bright, the Celtic Goddess of (among other things) poetry.

The Imbolc Cyberspace Poetry Slam has been celebrated for quite a few years now by various pagans around the blogosphere. On February 1st (Imbolc Eve) or February 2nd (Imbolc Day), people post a favourite poem written by themselves or by another poet so that, collectively, an internet web of poetry is woven to honour Brigid.

This year I am posting a poem by Mary Anne Perrone, who is an educator, activist, and spiritual guide. For over 30 years her area of focus has been on human rights in Latin America. This poem goes by various names on the internet (such as Christmas at Midlife, Life at Midlife, and She Is Fire) but I have used the title I think is most representative of its theme: No Longer Waiting.

The only good photo I could find of the poet is from 30 years ago in 1994 --


No Longer Waiting
by Mary Anne Perrone

I am no longer waiting for a special occasion;
I burn the best candles on ordinary days.

I am no longer waiting for the house to be clean;
I fill it with people who understand that even dust is Sacred.

I am no longer waiting for everyone to understand me;
It’s just not their task.

I am no longer waiting for the perfect children;
my children have their own names that burn as brightly as any star.

I am no longer waiting for the other shoe to drop;
It already did, and I survived.

I am no longer waiting for the time to be right;
the time is always now.

I am no longer waiting for the mate who will complete me;
I am grateful to be so warmly, tenderly held.

I am no longer waiting for a quiet moment;
my heart can be stilled whenever it is called.

I am no longer waiting for the world to be at peace;
I unclench my grasp and breathe peace in and out.

I am no longer waiting to do something great;
being awake to carry my grain of sand is enough.

I am no longer waiting to be recognized;
I know that I dance in a holy circle.

I am no longer waiting for Forgiveness;
I believe, I believe.

28 comments:

baili said...

Dear Debra you rock as always through the variety of topics you bring over and enlighten our hearts 🥰
Big and special thanks for this brilliant and beautiful poem by such pretty looking artist ❤️
Loved as it sounded echo of my own heart beat!!!
I wonder how many of us can achieve this place eventually where poet stands 😊
Hugs and lots of love ❤️
Debra dear can you please tell me your email address as I need your address for my son can send you dates ??

Val Ewing said...

This is perfect for me today.

Moving with Mitchell said...

This gave me a shiver. Powerful, beautiful, meaningful. Being awake to carry my grain of sand is enough.

Tom said...

...living in a cave as I do, the sacred day of Brigid the Bright is new to me.

Boud said...

That's a great poem! Full of truth and the moment. Thank you.

The Happy Whisk said...

That really is a good one. I remember hearing folk who would wait to use good plates and good soaps and as a kid, I thought, you grownups are so silly. lol.

Cleora Borealis said...

🤗 Very powerful example of how mighty a quiet voice can be. Perrone is now among my favorites. My favorite poem is "Thanatopsis" by William Cullen Bryant. He wrote of the quietness of death and the comfort of our return to the fullness of the natural world when he was 17. I have taken comfort from this poem since about that age myself. 😌
https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/50465/thanatopsis

Frank said...

I can relate to many lines in that poem. Thank you. Debra.

Lady M said...

A lovely poem - so suited to the world we are facing.

Kirk said...

Excellent poem!

Debra She Who Seeks said...

@ Cleora Borealis -- Thanks for sharing this poem and its link with us. I have never read it before. What a profound poem from one so young when he wrote it!

Gidget Blue Sky said...

yep, so very true!

Tundra Bunny said...

It's my understanding that Imbolc festivals were traditionally associated with weather lore, i.e., watching to see if snakes and badgers came out of their winter dens early. No one in their right mind would want to encounter a North American badger at ANY time of the year, so the humble groundhog/woodchuck was adopted as the harbinger of spring instead. But where is your poem to honour this valued rodent? So I offer this classy limerick to fill the void:

How much wood could a woodchuck fuck if a woodchuck could fuck wood?

Debra She Who Seeks said...

@ Tundra Bunny -- I'm not sure there's a lot of groundhog poetry out there, but thank you for that contribution!

Marie Smith said...

This poem is so appropriate for these times. Thank you for sharing it, Debra.

Kathy G said...

Thanks for showcasing one of my favorite poems.

roentare said...

She writes fantastic poem!

Anonymous said...

What a poem! Just what I needed to read and feel right now. Spot on, as always, Debra!

NanaDiana said...

WOW- That is powerful! I am printing it out so I have it to remind me to live in the NOW. xo Diana

Mary Kirkland said...

I like the poem. Thank you for this.

Ur-spo said...

On this day I would start my garden indoors in the basement.

DB Stewart said...

Those with tender hearts might wait forever for forgiveness. Seems like too long to me too.

e said...

This is a favorite and well-loved poem. It is always the right time to read it and especially now while the world catches fire. Thank you for posting.
A blessed Imbolc to you, Debra. May Brigid shine her bright heart in your direction.

Liz Hinds said...

That is so beautiful!

Mike said...

"No Longer Waiting"
I like it!

Fundy Blue said...

What a wonderful poem, Debra! Thanks for sharing it!

LA Paylor said...

how touching the poem is. The last line strikes me. I need to print it out to see often
LA

Busy Bee Suz said...

This is a beautiful and insightful poem. Thank you for sharing it with us.