Tonight we move in the Gaelic calendar from the Birch tree to the Rowan.
I’m sharing a poem, over 3 nights, by poet, Hilary Llewellyn-Williams entitled, ‘Rowan/Luis’
The invitation is to find a Rowan on these damp grey days and connect with the potent buds growing on her wood.
January 21st – February 17th
Bride put her finger in the river
On the feast day of Bride,
And away went the hatching mother of the cold.
The roaring is loud and brown.
I hold water in the cup of my hand
It warms to my touch like blood
But I dare not put my feet into the flood;