A Poem for Ostara - Tales from a Bard

Now is the time of Ostara. This is the Vernal Equinox, and it marks the beginning of Spring. This is when the Maiden will be reborn. The Crone, departing her winter-time reign, will sleep once more as the circle continues on. With the Maiden’s arrival, the flowers that have been budding will start to bloom. The deer and other animals of the forest shed their yuletide fur, and the springs, lakes and rivers teem with life. In days gone by, it was a time for great celebration as witches would rejoice at the survival of another year!

When I was a child, this also marked the time when my grandmother would sit me on the floor in front of her chair, as she would tell me tales of faerie folk. Grandma would tell me how, with all the rest of the denizens of the old forests, the Tuatha would also wake from their wintery slumber. She would tell me that if I were to go into the nearby forest, I should keep a watchful eye that I should not happen to enter a fairie ring, she would say. When I asked her what a faerie ring was, she would tell me, “Silly boy, those are the rings made up of toadstools. If you enter one, you’re in the little people’s land. If you stay too long, you might just get taken away to the land of the fae where even I can’t get to you!”.

I remember her stories of nosy children not minding their grandmothers and parents, as they spent too many hours among the mischievous wee folk. Some, as she told me, were never seen again...

Here is a poem I wrote in my Grandmother’s honor for the coming Ostara:

Title: Tuatha

Shimmering light

By day or night

The fae now dance and sing

In their glade

so secret laid

around a toadstool ring

Mortals sleep

Yet when they creep

the faeries come to play

to steal their things