Awaken from a Winter of cold, gloom and aloneness. Journey in
spirit beyond the clouds and fog. See the Bear, hidden all Winter
in her cave-den, her heart barely beating and her breath slowed
to a whisper.
Ever so slowly, her sluggish body feels the first stirrings of
movement. Her heart beats a bit faster. Her eyes open. Her hideaway
is still freezing cold, but the rhythms in her body respond to
the Earth’s first faint trembling. She gradually wakes,
stirs and looks around her den, finding all still well after her
long slumber. Soon, very soon, it will be time to look for nourishment
for her Winter-starved body.
She rests a bit longer, stretching life into her weak, unused
muscles. She slowly rises and lumbers to the entrance of her den.
With a start, you realize she is speaking, not with words but
heartbeat to heartbeat and soul to soul.
“I wake, not in a rush, not to a jangling alarm clock, but
to the gentle voice of the Earth, her perfect heart-rhythm, not
a moment before She calls me to wake and not a moment after.
“I wasted away like your Spirit as the golden sunlight and
rich bounty of Autumn gave way to the bleak cold winds of Winter.
I hid in my cave, sleeping, resting, nursing my wounds.
“Have you nursed your wounds all Winter, locked inside with
your hurts, angry at those who betrayed you? Has your soul withered
to a shell, a façade that has lost its hope, desolate in
the knowledge that it will never grow again? Never feel warmth
or beauty again?”
“Yes,” you manage to whisper despite your shock at
Her insight. “What is left for me but a meaningless, endless
procession of same-days, with nothing but grey, lifeless skies
reflected in a grey, lifeless spirit?”
“The winter has been long and hard for you too, my Child,”
she answers gently. “Your soul aches for warmth, for light,
for color. I have heard your heart-cry and I am here.”
your astonished eyes, the Bear’s brown, shaggy body dissolves
into emerald light. A beautiful maiden stands in her place, wrapped
in a brilliant green kirtle pulsing with light from within. Her
brow is tattooed with a waxing crescent moon and her young, unwrinkled
face shines with the brilliance of sunlight. In her slender hands
she holds a bearskin robe, tanned to pillow softness.
Your eyes fill with tears as she wraps the cloak around you and
you feel warm and cherished as you thought you never would again.
“I am Bridhe, Lady of the Holy Well that refreshes the Earth
anew each Spring until the trees cannot help but blossom forth
in joy. I am the Light illuminating your soul even in times of
darkness. I am the newborn lamb gamboling in tender new green
grass, the bear cub ball of fluff rolling down the hillside in
play, the crocus and daffodil that find their way from the Earth’s
cold depths to warmth and light and praise the Sun God with color
have returned, my child, bringing heartfelt tears and spring rains
to wash your soul. I bring light to warm your bones, color to
refresh your eyes and inspiration to guide you to new insights
and new ways of sharing them with your Clan. Your Clan needs you.
Wake, dear heart, ask the Trees their names, feel the pulsing
energy of the Stones. My Awen, my flame, brings your heart alive
again to join the ancient drumbeat of the Earth. “
You bow your head in awe. “Thank you,” you whisper.
You look up, and she had dissolved into a million emerald stars
that settle gently on the newly-green hillside.