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.
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