Imbolc Poem
(Imbolc is a celebration of the new growth beneath the snow)
(This is dedicated to the spirit of my best-friend, ex-husband, and father of my daughter, Peter Marvit, who was senselessly murdered in Baltimore on September 17th, 2012.)
It took us three months
To ride our bicycles from Bedford, Massachusetts to Dayton, Washington State.
Three months from late June’s oppressive heat to
September’s changing leaves.
Three months on the road, with you encouraging us from afar, to go the distance
To push through, despite the obstacles of wind and fatigue,
Despite the doubt and frustration of such an arduous trip.
Your last text message to me said: “Sending you go-for-it vibes.”
It was two days before my birthday
When your life was taken
Two days before September 19th
Which you always reminded me was
“Talk like a pirate day” when you wished me
“Happy Birthday Matie”
But this year that wish did not come.
This year I was left with an emptiness
Like an echo
Or a lake that has iced over.
I want to howl like the wind,
I want to rattle the trees with my grief
I want to know that your death will not go unnoticed; or your life unacknowledged.
I want to make sense of something so incomprehensible.
Yet, there is comfort in the fact
that the wheel turns.
That tenacious green shoots
Push up through the snow covered ground,
Push up to eventually meet the sunlight
To a world that is kind and cruel
In the same moment.
It is Imbolc tonight
Which reminds us that from the darkness of the frozen ground
Growth will emerge
The ice will thaw
And spring will come.
Imbolc is a time for hope.
A time of dedication.
I dedicate to “movement” this year.
To moving through this time
Of exquisite pain.
Moving toward healing
Moving toward living
With full intention.
I dedicate to moving
In rhythm with the seasons
Moving, moving, moving
Yet. . .
Not
Forgetting.
