“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.

“Brigid” by Lucy Brennan

“Brigid”

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.

Lucy Brennan

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

"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.

 

PRAYER TO ST. BRIGID FOR SUCCESSFUL PREGNANCY

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.
Amen.

ABOUT ANNA

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!

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

“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.

Nonetheless,

In thinking of her

Givingness,

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

“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

awake

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).

“Faerie’s Lorica” by Cynthia

“Faerie’s Lorica”

by Cynthia

I arise today through the courage

of the warriors of Brighid,

and am nourished by Danu.

Her spear forged in justice and power

goes before me.

Her maidens bearing fire and wisdom

surround me,

Her flame of inspiration alights upon my brow,

Her quiet words enter the secret door of my heart

and bring me comfort.

Her sons and her daughters fight for the freedom

of Eire, her sacred land and body,

and I am glad.

When I am weak with sadness,

she gives me courage to rise,

When I am drowning in crippling emotions,

She sends the seal of love and joy,

and the salmon of wisdom to me.

When my soul and heart are broken she mends them

with her smith's art.

When I am in danger she guards me,

I am blessed beyond measure that one day in

twenty,

Her spark is upon my altar.

I shall not be homeless,

I shall not be left in despair,

I will not be raped,

I will not be murdered,

I will not be overcome by the spirits of evil,

For the Great Cloak of Brighid is about me,

She is the protector and friend of my soul.

So Mote it be.





Image: Brigantia