We brought the light from the Darkness;
We brought the fire from the cold;
Though our deeds of valor are many,
It's our deeds of betrayal you're told.
They tell you we're not to be trusted;
That our way can bring only pains;
But THEY think you're nothing but cattle,
And we want you free of your chains.
We taught you to stand on your own legs;
We gave you language and tools;
We would have you find freedom in danger,
Not wallow in safety like fools.
We know that the Light needs the Darkness
Just as much as the Darkness needs Light;
Our way winds and twists through the twilight,
With no end to the journey in sight!
This one was a day late; by the time is arrived, I had pretty much given up on it. You see, Imbolc is the winter fertility festival, and I could find nothing in the traditional celebration that meant a thing to me. I nearly gave up. And then, with the deadline past and the despair beginning to set in, I was rescued by the Roman Catholic Church. I happened to focus momentarily on the Catholic overlay on the holiday: Candlemas. And I thought, "Light bringers. Prometheus. Tricksters. Yeah, I can DO tricksters..." And then I had a poem.