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



05 April 2021

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

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