Ostara

on the day when day and night are equal

when you can stand an egg on end

and flipped coins will land upon the edge,

when shamrocks grow among the crocuses

and you can chase white rabbits beneath the tree roots

to find another land within,

when there is solace in the swelling riverbank

and salvation in sunlit blooms,

when you know that past and future are only present

in the present,

that the world is alive in your own backyard

and your beating heart is music to the muse,

listen closely and you can hear the whispered

names that the gathering breeze

carries across the seas:

anna perenna

brigit

cybele

flora

ostara

osiris

oshun

persephone

sita

selene

shiva

venus

you

Jeffrey Michael Bowen. "Ostarta" Facebook Notes, 2017

Image by Johannes Gehrts