Folktober challenge day 6

This is my poem based on the image of the Cailleach. You can find all the contributions to Paul Brookes’ challenge here.

The wise women of the world

They come in twos, the women
who turn the seasons, or more often threes,
bringing birth, plenty, and easing into death.

Always the women, who rock the cradle,
who sweep the snow, banish the ice,
and spring snowdrops from the damp earth,

they bring down the milk, raise the grain,
sooth and smooth the worried frowns,
touch the sky, walk the earth.

The faces change,
wrinkled with the drying winds of winter
full and apple-bright with spring,

but all walk in beauty or stately majesty,
the year long, taking their cue from the moon,
the tides and the singing birds,

leaving the sun with his one smooth face,
to cast his beams, bask in hero worship
when summer sprawls sweet and mild,

but careless that in wintertime,
when fires splutter and cold famine
sits at table, his smile has no warmth.