The Forest Forge

4 12 2012





Forest Forge


The winters chill still frosts the pane, yet spring is a bright promise.

Her snows and winds still blow a cold fury.

Her steepled peaks ablaze with the drifting light of the ancient snows.

All faiths are bound to the seasons whims and bow before her love.


Sols’ light burns bright on this day of new beginnings.

Sweet Brigid becomes again, as she ever has, ever will…

Creative energy flows from the blood of the Earth.

Bright fire and steel become one.

She is again what she was before and will return to.


The lady in green stands at her forest forge and lends her light and promise to new growth.

Welcome sun comes brighter, stronger, with great energy and a new dawn.

She forges on, continuing her work until a bright star is cast.

She throws it into the sky for the race of man to behold.

She smiles and laughs….she loves them so.

And wishes them well.


In service to Gaia and the God that lives in all things.

In the bright fire of the forge, she will see….

They are all faiths, all genders, all light and love. Creation… Evolution…

These humans are not like the others…They are New.

They are stewards. They see the truth and wish to heal.

They honor her with the harvest that was,

seeking renewal of the crop to come.


Fires bright and steel bright, poets, bards and smiths alike, give thanks.

The crone forages and she is praised,

as her aspect changes

she becomes what she was again.


Foraged wood to stoke the fire,

arms upraised before the pyre.

Forest forge, burning bright

bring a dream of spring tonight.

All the wood that she can hold,

winter winds no longer bold.

Sleep in winters loving arms,

as spring begets her brightest charms.

Green and gold upon her hem,

Poets dip their quills in them.

Words appear upon the page,

in green and gold, and ne’er fade.




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