Mary Alice Williams
Aria for Imbolc
I make soil tillable, reeds pliable, lambs to drop on greening ground, great oaks to bud. I guide the poet plucking strings creating lore, the smith in crafting gold to clasp the royal cloak. I steer the final melting snows to coursing rivers, quicken sacred springs, stir holy wells, bestow the vernal dew that heals. I am unchanged by foreign waters sprinkled on my shrine, my feast, my name, by all attempts to tame, to shame. I make room for your saint, but know this-- when dawn breaks when spring arrives it is I, dispelling darkness, casting fire. I am Brid. *Brid is an Irish goddess from pre-Christian ages known for her wisdom, poetry, healing, protection, blacksmithing, and is associated with domesticated animals. Mary Alice Williams, a native of Providence, Rhode Island, writes in Grand Rapids, Michigan. Winner of the Dyer-Ives Poetry Contest judged by Conrad Hilberry, she is published in on-line journals including Potato Soup Journal, Shorts Magazine, WordCityLit, Panoplyzine, and Ekphrastic Review. She has a poem in the Fall 2022 River Paw Press anthology, Sunflowers: Ukrainian Poetry on War, Resistance, Hope and Peace. Since retiring from human services, Williams has focused on honing her voice as a poet. |