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.

“Meeting Bríd By Water” by Geraldine Moorkens Byrne

Meeting Bríd By Water

I looked across

and saw

a ribbon of silvered light

and the first

faint

blush of rose dawn.

This was Imbolc, the calling of Bríd

and She entered

on a pathway of sparkling

light.

I looked across

and my heart rejoiced

at the soft tread of her

across water.

 

Geraldine Moorkens Byrne

 

 Note: “Meeting Bríd By Water” is available with many other wondrous poems by Geraldine in her single author anthology, Dreams of Reality: a collection of poetry (e-book).

Image: "Berkshire, UK" by Paul Macallan on Unsplash

“Brigit Wakens” by Mael Brigde

 

Brigit Wakens

 

frost clutches the thorn

wrens huddle   feathers puffed

deer   stiff with cold

nip tips of willow twigs

 

Brigit wakens

kicks her feathered blanket from her legs

descends from her bed to the frozen lake

 

a touch of her palm

tames the water’s tension

fingers melt its rigid plane

stir the cold broth mildly   back and forth

 

sleepy trout rise stipple-sided

from the muddy bed in sloth

spring smooths winter’s transfixed edges

urges green and busy life

upon the land

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Image: "Vartry Lake, Roundwood, Co Wicklow, Ireland," by Paddy O Sullivan on Unsplash

"An Offer to Brigid: for Imbolg" by Madelyn Burnhope

 

An Offer to Brigid: for Imbolg

Goddess of this festival,

for whom a constant flame is tended,

daughter of the Dagda, seen aslant

by the Morrigan in the pocked

copper of His cauldron,

we need a word about

what’s meant by ‘birth.’

We have been reborn so many times,

laboured through so many phases,

and still this void, inside whose hearth

flames crackle, spit and hiss,

inviting family only so close.

Felt dandelions bud inside us, but none

has grown. How to navigate this?

What is meant by terms such as ‘to term’

and who may use them? Is it the compass

and radar of the seed which carries it

or the power of the wind around her?

Is it the meat-hands of Market Street

which bring children streaming into Spring

or the long light-gone gestation of Winter?

If you would turn your face

from the table, anvil, furnace, all

the various tools you’re forging –

blowing, bending, sending sparks

up into the workshop air –

and answer us, we would prepare

offerings from the bellies of our pantries:

honey, herbs, corn bread, dollies.

We have carried and come to terms.

Your misty-eyed, mystified daughters,

some of us misidentified as sons.

Name the way you wish us

in our barrenness to engage with you,

knowing not just any medium will do.

In the name of circling pool and flame,

and the bright bodies who birthed you.

 

 

Note: Madelyn Burnhope is devoted to Brigid, as well as the Dagda and the Morrigan, who revealed herself to her as Brigid’s mother, a UPG (unverified personal gnosis) referenced in this poem.

 

Image: Photo by Mateus Campos Felipe on Unsplash

“Why I Tend Your Flame” by Mael Brigde

Why I Tend Your Flame

 

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   and 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

come closer

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: "Flametending candle" by Mael Brigde

"Songs of the Oystercatcher - Honouring Brihde through the Wheel of the Year" by Heather Upfield

 

Bridie sailed up the west coast of Scotland and walked these lands that I walk.

She's still here in the many chapels and features of the landscape.

But she's not remote, but warm, domestic, a much-loved aunt...

the Oystercatchers call her name, and I join them in their calling 

Several years ago Heather Upfield generously allowed me to upload her poetry chapbook, "Songs of the Oystercatcher," for the use of visitors to Stone on the Belly. When we were chatting the other day she wrote the above words, which resounded greatly within me. Particularly the idea of Brigit as an aunt. That identity sits well with me.

I wanted to share her words with you, and to draw your attention to the many words she already has here. Please feel free to have a look at Heather's heartfelt words to Brigit by following this link.

Image: Uncredited.

"Waking Charm" Redacted & Refracted by Chris Godwin

                                     

WAKING CHARM

 

THANKS be to You, Brighid,

Who brought me up from last night,

To the gladsome light of this day,

To win wholeness for my soul,

Through my birth You didst tend for me.

Praise be to You, A Bhandia, for ever,

For the blessings You didst bestow on me--

My food, my speech, my work, my health,

And I beseech You

To shield me from blight,

To shield me from ill,

To sain me this night,

And I lowly but mighty,

O Goddess of the mighty!

O Brighid of the hearth!

Give me wisdom along with your grace.

May the High One claim me,

And protect me on sea and on land,

And lead me on from step to step,

To the people of peace of the Everlasting Pasture,

The people of peace of the Everlasting Pasture!

 

 

Redacted and refracted from - Carmina Gadelica (1.41) by Chris Godwin:

Original prayer:

     

      URNUIGH MADUINN [41]

  

       TAING dhut   Iosda Criosda,

   Thug mis a nios o 'n oidhche 'n raoir

   Chon solas soillse an la 'n diugh,

   Chon sonas siorruidh a chosnadh dha m' anam,

   An cion na fal a dhoirt thu dhomh.

 

Cliu dhut fein   a Dhe gu brath,

   An sgath gach agh a bhairig thu orm--

   Mo bhiadh, mo bhriathar, mo ghniomh, mo chail,

   *        *        *        *        *        *

 

'S tha mi   griosad ort

   Mo dhion bho'n olc,

   Mo dhion bho lochd,

   Mo shian an nochd

   'S mi iosal bochd,

   O Dhia nam bochd!

   O Chriosd nan lot!

   Thoir ciall dhomh 'n cois do ghrais.

 

Gun coraich an   Ti Naomha mi,

   Gun comhnaich air muir 's air tir mi,

   'S gun treoraich o ir gu ir mi

   Chon sith na Cathair Shiorruiche,

          Sith na Cathair Shiorruiche.

 

 

        MORNING PRAYER

  

       THANKS be to   Thee, Jesus Christ,

   Who brought'st me up from last night,

   To the gladsome light of this day,

   To win everlasting life for my soul,

   Through the blood Thou didst shed for me.

 

Praise be to   Thee, O God, for ever,

   For the blessings Thou didst bestow on me--

   My food, my speech, my work, my health,

   *        *        *        *        *        *

 

And I beseech   Thee

   To shield me from sin,

   To shield me from ill,

   To sain me this night,

   And I low and poor,

   O God of the poor!

   O Christ of the wounds!

   Give me wisdom along with Thy grace.

 

May the Holy   One claim me,

   And protect me on sea and on land,

   And lead me on from step to step,

   To the peace of the Everlasting City,

          The peace of the Everlasting City!

     

      

Carmina Gadelica, Volume 1, by Alexander Carmichael, [1900], p. 96 -97, at sacred-texts.com

 Chris posted on Facebook this lovely Brigidine redaction of Uirnuigh Maduinn (Morning Prayer) from Vol. 1 of the Carmina Gadelica. 

Image: by Etty Fidele