"Brigid of the Flame" a Song by Elaine Ní Chiardha

BRIGID OF THE FLAME

by Elaine Ní Chiardha

 

Brigid of the flame, oh holy, holy name

Brigid of the holy well,

the source that brings us home again

 

Brigid of the hearth welcomes the stranger

Into her heart, always with love

Brigid of the forge, worker of alchemy

Turns lead into gold and darkness to light

 

Brigid of the healing well, mantle of care

Cast your love over us with every prayer

Brigid of wisdom, deep in your waters

Guide us on our journey, each step further

 

 

 

 

 

 SoundCloud Recording: https://soundcloud.com/singingtheland/brigid-of-the-flame

YouTube: "Brigid of the Flame on Tara" https://youtu.be/bJVIy--Hf90

Image: Screenshot from "Brigid of the Flame on Tara" on YouTube.

"Prayer for the Dead" by Mael Brigde

 

Prayer for the Dead

 

dear Brigit

I lay my loved one down

a last time

 

he is three days dead

we have wailed and wept

we have sung and laughed

we have given thanks

we have cried out in anger

 

we have given thanks

 

bless my loved one on his journey

let his coracle be light and leaping

on the waves

 

salmon his companions

and the great whales

to guide him to his home

 

 

Image: "Victor James Arnott, July 2021" by his sister, Mael Brigde.

SoundCloud: This poem is sung here. I no longer pronounce Brigit's name as I have in this song. I explain why I now say "Bridget" here, in "Part the Second" which you will find if you click on Read More.

"Keening" by Daniela Simina

 

Keening,

 

Her gift for posterity,

the undying gift of Bride the Banfile,

power of word endowing

the pain and agony

with immortality.

Inheritance she left for

those to come.

The inheritance of spirit

passed on beyond blood.

Spear struck Ruadan

and without his blood spilled

that deep and powerful voice,

Her voice,

would never had risen.

A mother's grief birthed lamentation,

sacred union of word and sound

wedded by pain to never part again.

Him, left dead, her left alive,

her left to live forever in the heart of each of us

knowingly or unknowingly,

each time someone is keening.

Her gift for posterity,

the undying gift of Bride the Banfile:

the visceral yell erupting from

the soul sliced open,

the soul of a mother

cradling her dead child,

and nevertheless

make that a gift,

a step into immortality.

 

 

 Image: Self Portrait of mother crying for son, by Claudia Wolff on Unsplash

 

“Feast of St. Brigid - February 1st” by Paddy McCormack

 

“Feast of St. Brigid - February 1^st”

Oh dear St. Brigid hear our call,
And guard our native isle,
In olden days you spread the light
Of love o’er the soil,
Your mission full of ardent love,
With pleadings did not fall,
And ever shall thy memory live,
As Mary of the Gael. 

How oft you prayed with fervent hope
To save our native land,
The fire of Faith you kindled here,
By a heavenly breeze was fanned,
Thy earthly life our guiding star,
A beacon of light to all
Fond patroness of Erin’s Isle,
You heard the plaintive call. 

Tho’ years have flown O Glorious Saint,
Since you trod the Emerald Isle,
The hills and pleasant valleys,
Seem acalling all the while.
Come dwell again O Brigid true.
Amidst the scenes so fair,
Where first thy virtues flourished
From thy Convent at Kildare. 

The Irish race O faithful Queen,
Shall ever breathe thy name,
With Patrick’s aid Apostle true,
Our land shall rise to fame.
And when all earthly things shall end,
We pray our trials are o’er,
To meet our Glorious Irish Saint,
Yes meet to part no more.
                   
                                        

 

 

Note: “Poem by Paddy McCormack of Kildare Town dedicated to St. Brigid, to commemorate St. Brigid's Day, 1st February. The McCormack family have long been in business in Kildare Town and Paddy McCormack, who was well known for his poems and songs throughout Ireland and the US, is buried in Lackagh Cemetery.” Leinster Leader, 2 February 1941.

Previously published in ‘The Lily of Erin; Saint Brigid,’ by Rev. P. A. Sharkey (New York; 1921), pp. 65-66.

From Leinster Leader, 2 February 1941, republished Grey Abbey Conservation Project, 30 January 2009.

 

Image: Mary of the Gael, uncredited.

"Three Sisters at Drung Hill (Charm at Lughnasad)” by Mael Brigde

 

Three Sisters at Drung Hill

(Charm at Lughnasa)

 

knees scour on rock

robes scrub thin

inch by inch we climb

 

do not avoid the pebble

do not shun

thorned twig

 

we climb

from foot of shore

to crown of hill

 

here well up

born of ember dropped

from uncharred skirt

 

pure sweet waters

(seen sometimes by chance

never found when sought)

 

glittering eyes dance 

on skimming wet

we circle winking   smiling pool

 

celebrate harvest

cheer fallen corn

kiss fertile ground

 

on earth-rasped

deep devoted

heart sated

 

well enraptured

want-extinguished

knees

 

 

 

 

 

 

Note: Inspired by reports in MacNeill, The Festival at Lughnasa, pp. 413, 672, etc.

Image: Yoksel 🌿 Zok of. Moscow, Russia via Unsplash

“I see You” by Johnny Jeansonne

 

I see You

 

I see You,

In chaos and in peace

There You are,

Never bending.

I see Your face

Like lightning,

Blinding me

If only

For a second.

I hear it,

The pounding of hammers

On hot metal,

The sizzle of sweat

Boiling as it hits the flame.

Oh yes, I hear it.

And I know You,

Sun Woman,

Fiery Arrow,

Sacred Flame.

I’ve known You forever.

I feel Your heart,

Beating and burning so closely

To my own.

And with that I know

I am Yours

 

 

 

By Johnny Jeansonne

 

Image: Photo by Flash Dantz on Unsplash

“St. Brigid” by Theresa Brayton

 

“St. Brigid”

Oh, she was fair as a lily,
And holy as she was fair,
The Virgin Mary of Erin,
Brigid of green Kildare;
She came to earth when the snowdrops
Were starring the rain-drenched sod,
The sweetest blossom among them
From the far-off gardens of God.

And over the haunted mountains
Where Druids still watch and pray
A dawn-wind wakened and whispered:
“Give praise to the Lord today,
For to you a child is given
Whose name in the days to be,
Will flame like a torch eternal
From uttermost sea to sea,
And her life, like a surge of incense
From the alter of your green sod,
Will fashion a stair forever
From Ireland up to God.”

O Brigid, so high and holy!
So strong in womanly grace,
Look down from the sills of Heaven
Today on your olden race.
‘Tis over the world we’re scattered,
And your land is a land of woe,
But we’re holding you as a lodestar
Whatever the roads we know.

For you are our pledge in Heaven,
With Phadrig and Columcille,
For the faith of our foes unbroken
And the hopes that they could not still;
For the surge of our prayers unceasing,
For the depth of our love unpriced.
For our agony in earth’s garden
And our crucifixion with Christ.

And we cry to you, holy Brigid,
‘Tis you have the right to pray
For us and the land of Erin
In the hour of our need today.
We breathe your name as a symbol,
Like the lamp on your alter set,
That God is an unforgetting God
And will stand for our righting yet;
Yea, He, who so long has tried us
In the flame of His purging fire,
Will give to the race of Brigid yet
The crown of their soul’s desire.

Theresa Brayton (1868 - 1943) was a poet and an Irish Republican who participated in the 1916 rebellion. (Kevin Kennedy sings her song, ‘The Old Bog Road.’) Moving to the U.S.A. and marrying a French Canadian, she was well known in Irish American circles.

Poem published in Leinster Leader 2 February 1941, republished on Co. Kildare Online Electronic History Journal, 2 January 2009. 

 

 Image: Photograph of Teresa Brayton in Songs of the Dawn and Irish Ditties, 1913. Public domain..

Email Subscriptions Ending

  

I am sorry to say that Blogger will no longer be supporting email subscriptions as of July 2021. I do announce new posts on Facebook as they come along, so if you are on that platform, you could follow me there. If you have another idea of how I can continue to offer email alerts, do let me know.

Meanwhile, thank you for your support. 

Brigit's blessings.

Mael Brigde

Image: by Sigmund on Unsplash

Saint Bride and the Swan, from Carmina Gadelica

 

Every now and then we ask where a certain association of Brigit's arises from. Recently it was the swan. Here is one answer, from Carmina Gadelica, Vol. 1, edited by Alexander Carmichael, in Scottish Gaelic first, and then in English.

       Eala bhan a   ghlugaid bhinn,

   Odhra sgaireach nan ciabh donn,

   Cha ghear thu it as an druim,

   Gu la-bhrath, air bharr nan tonn.

 

Air an ite   bitheadh iad a ghnath

   Mu 'n cuir thu lamhaidh ri do chluais,

   Is bheir Moire mhin-gheal dhut dha gradh,

   Is bheir Bride aluinn dhut dha buar.

 

Chan ith thu   farasg no blianach,

   No aon ian nach leag do lamh,

   Bi-sa taingeil leis an aon-fhear,

   Ge do robh a naodh air snamh.

 

Eala shith   Bhride nan ni,

   Lacha shith Mhoire na sith.

       

 

       The white swan of the sweet gurgle,

   The speckled dun of the brown tuft,

   Thou shalt not cut a feather from their backs,

   Till the doom-day, on the crest of the wave.

 

On the wing be they always

   Ere thou place missile to thine ear,

   And the fair Mary will give thee of her love,

   And the lovely Bride will give thee of her trine.

 

Thou shalt not eat fallen fish nor fallen flesh,

   Nor one bird that thy hand shall not bring down,

   Be thou thankful for the one,

   Though nine should be swimming.

 

The fairy swan of Bride of flocks,

   The fairy duck of Mary of peace.

Image: by Mathias P.R. Reding on Unsplash

“Brigid in the Year of 2020” by Lisa Wagoner

 

Brigid in the Year of 2020

 

O Brigid,

I stand in front of your altar

Daily

Sometimes not so present

All sleepy-eyed and foggy headed

Wondering what to do next

If anything.

This year

Was an endless parade of

“What now?”

Yet I always spent time with you

Asking for guidance

Hoping you would light the way

If anything.

 

I kept

The offerings plentiful

Weekly

Brought items of nature

Praying that now you would

Grant me some answers

If anything.

 

So now

The end of the year is nigh

You were there

So subtle I didn’t always notice

Guiding, teaching, answering

With much gratitude, I am more faithful

If anything.

 

 

Image: by Vince Fleming on Unsplash

 

 

"The Well" by Mael Brigde

 

The Well

 

on its surface

skims her reflected face

(no other mirror desired)

 

no more the red blush

of well-washed severed heads

 

by the healing waters

madness dampened

illness quenched

good winds called

drive fish and fishermen to meet

 

she drinks the dear water

cleans   protects   tends

her whole life through

the holy well

Image: "Glastonbury Well." Photo by Rachael Henning on Unsplash.

"Brigid at Avalon" by Hayley Arrington

Brigid at Avalon, a poem

by Hayley Arrington

She prayed to the Magdalene

At her Chapel near the Tor.

Bright Woman of no sin,

What is it you pray for?

Do you pray for the summer sun

To never dim or fade?

Do you pray for the faerie folk

Who run in the magic glade?

Goddess, Woman, Saint

Bright Woman of flame and well

Stir you cauldron, weave you spell

You were born on a threshold,

Neither in nor out.

You dried your cloak on a sunbeam.

You sang to the little trout.

You heal the ill,

Restore the blind’s sight,

Come to me at Brigid’s Hill.

Come, Goddess of the light.

Goddess, Woman, Saint

Bright Woman of flame and well

Stir you cauldron, weave you spell

Image: Saint Brigit milking her cow, Glastonbury. Uncredited.

Three Poems for Brigid - Doireann Ní Ghríofa, Paula Meehan, & Nidhi Zak/Aria Eipe moli.ie/digital/three-poems-for-brigid/

  These three poems are not published on this blog, but linked to the original site and to their videos on YouTube. From the Museum of Literature Ireland:

To celebrate St Brigid’s Day 2021, MoLI and the Department of Foreign Affairs, have collaborated on ‘Three Poems for Brigid’, a series of three short online films. Each film showcases a poet and a spoken word performer, and is based around one of the three aspects of Brigid as the triple goddess of poetry, healing, and craftwork.

The poems were commissioned from three of Ireland’s finest female poets, spanning the creative generations: Doireann Ní Ghríofa, Paula Meehan and Nidhi Zak/Aria Eipe. Artists performing the works include Osaro Azams, Ruth McCabe and Caitríona Ennis, with music by Syn, Dowry, and Dreamcycles.

Through the poem and accompanying imagery, each film explores the theme as it relates to Irish women from past to present. The films aim to reach the widest audience possible, both local and international, and to engage Irish people around the world with living female Irish writers, performers and the feminine continuum that stretches through our history, is alive in our society, and is exemplified through both the Pagan and Christian symbolism of Brigid.

 At Bridget’s Well

Poem by Doireann Ní Ghríofa
Performance by Osaro Azams
Music by Syn

Old Biddy Talk
Poem by Paula Meehan
Performed by Ruth McCabe
Music by Dowry

i mbolc
Poem by Nidhi Zak/Aria Eipe
Performed by Caitríona Ennis
Music by Dreamcycles

Image: Saint Brigit statue, from MoLI site.