“Imbolg” by Geraldine Moorkens Byrne

 

Imbolg

 

She is cloaked in moments

glittering gems of rescued time

on a gauze of twilight, in

the grand stretch of an evening

 

Her eyes bring light to the day

green as a new bud fighting

for life beneath hard cold soil

reaching to greet the silvered dawn

 

Her voice is the poetry of the wind

metred in short stanzas

the breath of new life and fresh air

as we call her into our homes

 

She perfumes the air with smoke

burning it clean from the winter's decay

It is a prayer to her, a blessing

curling itself into the corners.

 

O! Brìd. You are the one that we need

You are the dream that we cherished

in the dark and the lean

in the belly of the turning year

 

 

 

 

Copyright: Geraldine Moorkens Byrne 2023

Image: by Geraldine Moorkens Byrne on Flickr, February 8, 2009.

“Blessing on Brigit's Eve” by Mael Brigde

 

Blessing on Brigit's Eve

 

May she bless you in everything you do

 

May you be peaceful, safe, well, and happy

May all of your losses and all of your gains

   be tempered by her healing hand

May she help you build your life and world

   with her smith's understanding

May she help you find the words

   and meanings of your life

   with her poet's heart

 

Image: a small beeswax candle, shaped as an open flower. Photo by Mael Brigde.

Sun Poem, Two Variations by Kersten Christianson

 

Brigit’s Light:  A Break from Rain

 

To remind us of her presence,

the sun opens her blinds

occasionally.

She dusts the glass-beaded crystals

waiting in windows

and washes my space in gold.

She travels across hushed waters

slipping silently into the sea.

 

(As published in Brigit: Sun of Womanhood, 2013)

 

Sun

 

Occasionally she opens

the blinds, to remind me she is there.

 

She dusts the glass-beaded

baubles swinging in the windows.

 

She washes in gold light

my bookshelves, my desk,

 

the dust collected in the corners,

the spider plant drooping on the sill.

 

She goes about her day,

moving across hushed waters,

 

gliding silently into the wine-dark sea.

 

(As edited and published in Something Yet to Be Named, 2017)

 

 

 

 

Image: Kersten's window, by Kersten Christianson.

“A Poem in Honor of St Brigid” by Brigid Claire Oak

 

A Poem in Honor of St Brigid

 

Her habit is

a dancing dress,

her prayer beads, tinkling bells.

 

She settles in

the sun’s caress,

and drinks from ancient wells.

 

Her abbey is

a grove of oak,

deep in a forest glen.

 

From here the Winds

of Wisdom spoke,

from here She’ll speak again.

 

Her bread’s a hearty

cake of oat,

Her wine’s a honey meade.

 

She gives away

her shoes and coat,

the hungry she does feed.

 

Her altar is

a peasant’s heart,

draped in Love’s linen, fair.

 

The Queen of Heaven,

Prince of Peace,

and angels meet her there.

 

Her mantle is

the meadow green,

all creatures are her friends.

 

Those once forgotten,

now are seen,

their brokenness she mends.

 

Her sacred well’s

a lake of ale,

with roses all around.

 

Her faith, a currach

setting sail,

her soul is Holy Ground.

 

Her crozier is

a wand of light,

her mitre; made of fire.

 

The Shepherdess of good

and right,

compassion and desire.

 

Her smile’s a message

of God’s care,

and Love that knows no end.

 

Dear Anamchara of Kildare,

Saint, Abbess,

and Soul-Friend.

 

 

 

 

Image: "The Lagan Meadows in all their summer glory" (July 2009) by K. Mitch Hodge. (Lagan Meadow, Belfast, Northern Ireland, U.K.) 

Note: This poem was posted by Paul Neeley on Godspace blog: “A Prayer and a Poem in the Spirit of St Brigid” on July 28, 2016. He wrote:

‘Here’s a poem in honor of St. Brigid written by ‘Brigid Claire Oak’ which I found through the Facebook group ‘Celtic Christian Tradition.’ She has given permission to share it here: She notes, “The words came with a little melody and I do sing it, but it is not set to music in an official sense.”’

 I have tried to track down the author of the post and the author of the poem, to no avail. I post them here in the hope that anyone who sees it who knows her may let me know and I can pursue permission retrospectively. Although most of the readers of Stone on the Belly are Pagan, I like to post Christian prayers and poems now and then to show another side of her cult. This one has some particularly lovely bits I wanted to share with you.

"Recalling Brigid" by Orna Ross

 

Recalling Brigid

Orna Ross

 

Queen of queens, they called her

in the old books, the Irish Mary.

Never washed her hands, nor her head

in sight of a man, never looked

into a man’s face. She was good

with the poor, multiplied food,

gave ale to lepers. Among birds,

call her dove; among trees, a vine.

A sun among stars.

 

Such was the sort of woman

preferred as the takeover was made:

consecrated cask, throne to His glory,

intercessor.

 

Brigid said nothing to any of this,

the reverence, or the upbraidings.

Her realm is the lacuna,

silence her sceptre,

her own way of life its own witness.

 

Out of desire, the lure of lust

or the dust of great deeds,

she was distorted:

to consort, mother-virgin,

to victim or whore.

 

I am not as womanly

a woman as she.

So I say: Let us see.

Let us say how she is the one.

 

It is she who conceives

and she who does bear.

She who knitted us in the womb

and who will cradle our

tomb-fraying.

 

Daily she offers her arms,

clothes us in compassion,

smiles as we wriggle

for baubles.

 

Yes, it is she who lifts you aloft

to whisper through your ears,

to kiss with your eyes,

to touch her cooling

cheek to your cheek.

Image: by Raul Angel on Unsplash. "One in a million," Guatemala City, Guatemala.

First published on Instagram in February 2022, then on Orna's blog, Orna Ross, on 13 February 2022.

"Níl aon bhealach" by memoriata

Níl aon bhealach

 

Brigid shield of fire and water

Healing well, perpetual light

Threefold sister, Dagda's daughter

Guard me with your flame so bright

 

Tig an éirí na gréine tar éis an oiche fada

After the long winter comes the spring

 

Níl aon bhealach amach ach tríd

Níl aon bhealach amach ach tríd an tine

Níl aon bhealach amach ach tríd

Níl aon bhealach amach ach Bríd

 

Brigid spark of hope in darkness

Brigid of the forge of life

Smith of transformation, Goddess

Guide me safely through all strife

 

Tig an earrach tar éis an gheimhreadh fada

After the long night comes the dawn

 

Níl aon bhealach amach ach tríd

Níl aon bhealach amach ach tríd an tine

Níl aon bhealach amach ach tríd

Níl aon bhealach amach ach Bríd

 

Keep the darkness from me

lantern in my chest

Light the way before me

lead me to my rest

 

Coinnigh an dorchadas uaim

lóchrann i mo chroí

Soilsigh an bealach ar aghaidh dom

treoraigh mé do mo críoch

 

Níl aon bhealach amach ach tríd

Níl aon bhealach amach ach tríd an tine

Níl aon bhealach amach ach tríd

Níl aon bhealach amach ach Bríd

 

 

 

Níl aon bhealach from Songs to Brigid, released February 2, 2021

Words, tune and arrangement: memoriata

Be sure to listen onto this beautiful song.

Image by M.T ElGassier.

"Vigorous Dairy Maid" by Mael Brigde

 

Vigorous Dairy Maid

 

you draw forth milk

with such energy

vats froth over

a great pond forms

to last for all of time

 

cattle glance over white shoulders

look in wonder

at what they have produced

 

 

 

Image: "Freshly milked cow's milk" by Endee n. [CC BY-SA 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons]