First Rose

You
flowered
in my garden
all winter

no waiting
patiently
for spring

first rose.

You
dared to
be in colour
outside my window
whilst I wore
dark clothes
carried

the dark
from my room
past you

brought
it back daily
unable to

imagine

how you
stay so yellow
or red or purple
or blue when
my moods

flicker
flimsier than
your hardy
petals.

When
I wonder
if your beauty
might adorn
my corpse
you try

to smile

remind me
of hardiness.
Of my god who
loves winter
flowers.

“Creiddylad.”

I speak her name.

“Prima rosa.
Rhosyn gyntaf.
First rose.”

“We endure
Annwn’s darkness,”
she smiles back.
“We endure.”

8 thoughts on “First Rose

  1. peterjeffs says:

    We bless the God who loves winter flowers. Soon we will reach the spring equinox. I have already seen the primroses sprouting. Primavera. Truth in the lengthening of days and the change of season.

  2. Greg Hill says:

    Creiddylad as winter flowers, and this conversation with her, resonates a deep chord.

    So much is awakening but even in these days of changing seasons the hold on Winter on the Spring is no less firm, the desire of the Spring to awaken no less keen.

    Each moment whether of momentum or of slowing down and retrenchment is equally precious, equally characteristic of equinoctial change in contrast to the stillness of the solstices.

  3. Tiege McCain says:

    I enjoyed the little flower’s determination, I like how you contrast the flowerbed’s vibrancy to your own dark attire – It’s interesting that the contrast seems to highlight you’re separation from nature, some of your other recent posts are about your journey cultivating a kinship with the natural world. So you see it as a departure from your usual themes?

    • lornasmithers says:

      It’s not so much a separation from nature (which I’m feeling much closer to) but the fact this connection is always shadowed by my anxiety and despair about not being able to find a paid role that sustains my soul in the world.

      • Tiege McCian says:

        I hope you find your fulfillment, it’s a very pure wish. You’re much better than me. I’m constantly praying to God to make my life easy. 🙂

        Best wishes Lorna!!

      • peterjeffs says:

        I’ve thought and written about this too, the finding of a place that we might thrive. The plant – the snowdrop – eirlys, you say – grows here and there and where it thrives it blossoms. It is part of a process, a deeper process. I am about to renounce a contract – one that would pay, for sure, four months of mooring fees, but my intuition tells me to let it go, that more aligned work may come in. This is a risk for sure in my old thinking, but if I am to align myself with a God or Goddess, I must try, ferociously, to trust my intuition and their whispering.

        May your books sell, your Patreon flourish, and the doors to fulfill your alignment be opened. Your words are already blessed in other worlds. May they be so blessed in this one!

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