February
In the coldest February, as in every other month in every other year, the best thing to hold on to in this world is each other.
February gets its name from an ancient Roman and Etruscan god of purification, Februus. We may get the word for fever from this deity, as fevers were considered purgative. Although February remains quite cold, there is a growing sense of restlessness, a subtle melting of our cool distance as our gaze begins to drift outside ourselves. It once was considered a part of the “dead time” before January and February were added to the Gregorian calendar. Still, there is an emerging that begins here, a desire to connect with another. The thawing out of our frozen places begins so that beautiful things may take root once again.
Birth Customs of February
February Flower
Violet, a modest sweetheart grew
With gentle gaze, quite hid from view
A blush upon her purple cheek
Alluding to her warm mystique.
February Zodiac
Aquarius pours from the cup
As February opens up
Yet as the monthly cycle ends
It’s Pisces that pays dividends.
February Stone
The February born shall find
Sincerity and peace of mind,
Freedom from passion and from care,
If they, the amethyst will wear.
Magic of February
Correspondences
Herbs: Balm of Gilead, Rose, Lemon
Totems: Otter, Unicorn, Groundhog
Stones: Clear Quartz, Milky Quartz
Birthstone: Amythest
Birth Flower: Violet
Celtic Trees: Rowan & Ash
Nature Spirits: Ugunsmate
Spellwork
Purify
Love
Protect
Grow
Heal
Aromatherapy
Love Nest
3 drops Ylang Ylang
2 drops Orange
2 drops Sandalwood
Meditation
In prayer it is better to have a heart without words than words without a heart.
Science of February
Astronomy
Name: February
Length: 28-29 Days
New Moon: February 4th
Full Moon: February 19th
Full Moons
Colonial American: Trapper’s Moon
Celtic: Chaste Moon
Chinese: Budding Moon
Cherokee Nation: Bone Moon
Medieval English: Storm Moon
Poetry for February
A Valentine
(Sent to a friend who had complained that I was glad enough to see him when he came, but didn’t seem to miss him if he stayed away.)
And cannot pleasures, while they last,
Be actual unless, when past,
They leave us shuddering and aghast,
With anguish smarting?
And cannot friends be firm and fast,
And yet bear parting?
And must I then, at Friendship’s call,
Calmly resign the little all
(Trifling, I grant, it is and small)
I have of gladness,
And lend my being to the thrall
Of gloom and sadness?
And think you that I should be dumb,
And full DOLORUM OMNIUM,
Excepting when YOU choose to come
And share my dinner?
At other times be sour and glum
And daily thinner?
Must he then only live to weep,
Who’d prove his friendship true and deep
By day a lonely shadow creep,
At night-time languish,
Oft raising in his broken sleep
The moan of anguish?
The lover, if for certain days
His fair one be denied his gaze,
Sinks not in grief and wild amaze,
But, wiser wooer,
He spends the time in writing lays,
And posts them to her.
And if the verse flow free and fast,
Till even the poet is aghast,
A touching Valentine at last
The post shall carry,
When thirteen days are gone and past
Of February.
Farewell, dear friend, and when we meet,
In desert waste or crowded street,
Perhaps before this week shall fleet,
Perhaps to-morrow.
I trust to find YOUR heart the seat
Of wasting sorrow.
Love’s Philosophy
The fountains mingle with the river
And the rivers with the ocean,
The winds of heaven mix for ever
With a sweet emotion;
Nothing in the world is single;
All things by a law divine
In one spirit meet and mingle.
Why not I with thine?—
See the mountains kiss high heaven
And the waves clasp one another;
No sister-flower would be forgiven
If it disdained its brother;
And the sunlight clasps the earth
And the moonbeams kiss the sea:
What is all this sweet work worth
If thou kiss not me?
Afternoon in February
The day is ending,
The night is descending;
The marsh is frozen,
The river dead.
Through clouds like ashes
The red sun flashes
On village windows
That glimmer red.
The snow recommences;
The buried fences
Mark no longer
The road o’er the plain;
While through the meadows,
Like fearful shadows,
Slowly passes
A funeral train.
The bell is pealing,
And every feeling
Within me responds
To the dismal knell;
Shadows are trailing,
My heart is bewailing
And tolling within
Like a funeral bell.
Calendar of February
