Writing Brigit

Writing Brigit

Many years ago I wrote my first Brigit prayer. Poem. Blessing... I have been writing them ever since, but seldom publish them. Some are carefully researched and crafted, some are simple and straight from the heart.

The prayers and blessings of my sisters in the Daughters of the Flame and other Brigit-loving women and men, living and long-dead, fill me with surprise and delight, as well.

I would like to share some of these writings with you.

Following is the one that signs off each of my emails, a reminder to guide my words and intentions with care when I write to anyone. It's as good a place to start as any.

Flame Offering

In the name of the three Brigits

I light the candle of my heart

May I offer it to everyone

gentle and steady

warm and bright

09 January 2019

"We Sing a Song to Brigid" (Alive-O)

Image result for alive-o 2

We sing a song to Brigid,
Brigid brings the spring
Awakens all the fields and the flowers
And calls the birds to sing.
All were welcome at her door,
no one was turned away.

She loved the poor, the sick and the sore,
She helped them on their way.
She laid her cloak out on the ground
And watched it grow and grow,
In wells and streams and fields of green
St. Brigid’s blessings flow.

*** Follow the title link to hear the tune.

Source: From the Veritas CD Alive-O/Beo go Deo 2 (Senior Infants)

05 December 2018

“Healing Ways” by Mael Brigde

bath of herbs    bath of milk
porridge of oats and hazel buds
and tender meadow leaves
these are the ways of healing

saffron when spirit’s low
cupping quells bones aflame
butter coaxes thorns
from flesh

sweat house
icy pools
rubbing limbs
these grow forceful
the lagging frame

lost in prayer you dimpled
the stones beneath your knees
where water pools today
cures joints and livid eyes
women with child
kneel there
and birth is kind

ways of healing   many
prescription always the same
place yourself in the hands of the land

trust your soul to the saint

Image: Saint Brigit and Porridge, photo by Mael Brigde
Note: Healing methods listed here, excepting the kneeling stones cure, were found in Fleetwood, History of Medicine in Ireland, pp. 7-9.

22 July 2018

“Brigid” by Lucy Brennan


A wave flounces over a rock,
folds and settles itself in a rush of silk.

Soon a corm in earth's womb will burst
and crack its frozen crust.

On a blue day you feel
the movement towards light,

when a fish pokes above water, when a hawk,
lean from winter pickings, broods over holes,

when you look down on matted leaves
and a sprout pushes through,

when you look out and dive on a seal's curve,
surface on a swallow's breast.

I stand with you among brown reeds
on the edge of the lake and watch two swans,

ice statues until a wing breaks free.

The Poetry Ireland Review, No. 53 (Summer, 1997), p. 18.

Image: "Can be seen at Ecomare on Texel island in The Netherlands," by Rene Cortin (Own work) [CC BY-SA 4.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0)], via Wikimedia Commons

12 June 2018

"Prayer to St. Brigid for Successful Pregnancy" by Anna Rapp

Anna Rapp was told by doctors that she couldn't conceive naturally, but she refused to give up. She now blogs about her journey in To Make a Mommy. This is a prayer she wrote to Saint Brigit, to ask her aid in becoming pregnant. It comes from her post "Praying to St. Brigid for Fertility and Pregnancy." The title pane is from her blog.

Thanks, Anna, for your kind permission to publish your prayer here. May Brigit bless all who seek to bring children into their lives, and bless those children she brings us to.



St. Brigid, champion of women and of babies, I ask for your blessing.
You are a healer who strengthens what is weak.
You bring harmony where there is discord.
Heal my body that I might conceive and birth a healthy child into this world.
Strengthen my soul that I may remain steadfast in my belief in my own fertility.
Bring harmony to me that my body, soul, and spirit may align to prepare for pregnancy.
Prepare my heart to welcome new life with love.
Hear my pleas, Brigid, and intercede for me to our Lord, Jesus Christ.
Through Jesus Christ I pray.


I'm Anna and I beat the odds and got pregnant naturally after the doctors said it wasn’t possible. I blog about how I did it and encourage my readers to take charge of their fertility journey and get happy, healthy, and pregnant!

16 May 2018

Journey with Brigit, Goddess of Poetry (Online Course with Mael Brigde)

A moment away from presenting actual poems--I just wanted to alert readers to the fact that, after a change of hosts, registration for my course, Journey with Brigit, Goddess of Poetry, is open at last. This is an intensive course that both nourishes the writing (and reading) of poetry and connects the participant to the poet in Ireland, and poetry in our lives.
The classes come out one a day, and you are welcome to move as quickly or slowly as you like through each lesson.
You are welcome to join me there if you like. Either way:
Brigit's blessings on your pen!
Mael Brigde

25 April 2018

“The Giveaway” by Phyllis McGinley

The Giveaway

Saint Bridget was
A problem child.
Although a lass
Demure and mild,
And one who strove
To please her dad,
Saint Bridget drove
The family mad.
For here's the fault in Bridget lay:
She would give everything away.

To any soul
Whose luck was out
She'd give her bowl
Of stirabout;
She'd give her shawl,
Divide her purse
With one or all.
And what was worse,
When she ran out of things to give
She'd borrow from a relative.

Her father's gold,
Her grandsire's dinner,
She'd hand to cold
and hungry sinner;
Give wine, give meat,
No matter whose;
Take from her feet
The very shoes,
And when her shoes had gone to others,
Fetch forth her sister's and her mother's.

She could not quit.
She had to share;
Gave bit by bit
The silverware,
The barnyard geese,
The parlor rug,
Her little
niece's christening mug,
Even her bed to those in want,
And then the mattress of her aunt.

An easy touch
For poor and lowly,
She gave so much
And grew so holy
That when she died
Of years and fame,
The countryside
Put on her name,
And still the Isles of Erin fidget
With generous girls named Bride or Bridget.

Well, one must love her.
In thinking of her
There's no denial
She must have been
A sort of trial
Unto her kin.
The moral, too, seems rather quaint.
Who had the patience of a saint,
From evidence presented here?
Saint Bridget? Or her near and dear?

(from The Love Letters of Phyllis McGinley, New York, Viking Press, 1957)

Image: "A mound of butter" by anokarina from United States (butter) [CC BY-SA 2.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons

04 April 2018

“Why I Tend Your Flame” by Mael Brigde

why return always to this endless ritual
of nineteen days plus one

on the twentieth day of the cycle
when each sister has had her turn
you keep your flame alive

in the evening of the following day
you offer me the glowing coal
to kindle
my own small fire

I am so forgetful
I strike the match
and before the wick is blackened
I am a thousand miles away
planning   worrying   angry   wishful
hurrying to accomplish this and that

if I am so very forgetful
why return

in that moment
when I take a breath
place the candle in its lantern
lantern in its cauldron
pour water clean and fresh
around its base
when I add the blue juniper
whisper words of honouring
of sharing   of blessing
of request
when I open my hands to receive
your eye-bright coal
my heart opens with them
I glimpse this wider land
this wider life
I come closer
come for one fraction of a second

this is your gift to me

mine to you
is to return
again and again
to this moment of ignition
in my soul

Image: “Shift candle” by Mael Bridge (2014).