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. (Belated update: I did eventually publish a book called A Brigit of Ireland Devotional - Sun Among Stars. It contains many of my Brigit poems and prayers, essays, and resources.)

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



27 April 2020

“Conversation in Queen’s Park” by Mael Brigde




“Conversation in Queen’s Park”

when we first met I circled round you
taking note
this is how you differ from the
One True God I had been schooled to
this is how you fit into
the same garment that he wore
wary   I wondered at your gentleness
the marvel of your womanly profile
familiar saintly odour
new sharp fragrance of goddess strength
and nowhere a gavel forcing agreement
where none exists

you gave me room to breathe
I learned what I could of you
wove your images into me
dyed with you the patterns of my life
sunrise and sunfall
winter and spring

soon I came to you
with petitions and with prayers
please protect us
please stop the hurt
please give me strength

I found sisterhood in you
your daughters coming to my table
we prayed together and built our lives

then it came to me to give you thanks
for all that was   all that had been
and all that never came to be
to offer praise and gratitude
for everything

stranger
mother
sister
friend
our time together grew long

I sit now beside you
on an old park bench
this stone could be an altar
this park
a sacred grove
you are a weathered and timeless woman
your brown dog waddles elderly off its leash
I see you now and there is only silence
nothing to offer   ask   or say
like I am an ancient hazel tree
and you my silent wife






Image: "Woman and dog at Cedar Lake caretaker's cottage, 1915." This file is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 Generic license.