POEM: Brigid by Kieran Murray

For our Pagan Goddess
The flame it burned bright
As nineteen priestesses
Tended it every night

A different one daily
Fed the hot flame
And then on day twenty
The goddess she came

The goddess of the Welsh
And of the Irish nation
The mistress of wisdom
And fine inspiration

The patroness of smiths
And doctors and poets
She presides over livestock
The cattle and goats

The ruler of the moon
And goddess of the sun
She has the power
To heal everyone

All her holy wells
Help quench our thirst
And her feast day is Imbolc
That’s February the first

She was born with hot flames
Coming out of her hair
A Shrine’s built in her honour
In the town of Kildare

The Pagan God Dagda
He was her Dad
And a half brother Aengus
Also she had

They were the Tuatha De Danann
From the Heavens above
And Aengus was known
As the God of love

She had great magic
So so it did seem
She dried her wet clothes
On a solidified beam

She’d a sacred rowan tree
And four types of beast
And had bread, milk and oats
For every Imbolc feast

And the other St Brigid
Her Christian counterpart
When accused of being wicked
Held a hot coal to her heart

And a long time later
She dropped it in the dirt
And proved herself hold
She was not burned or hurt

She was then proved a saint
Not a demon from Hell
And on that very spot
Today there’s a well

So we honour both Brigids
On their feast day the same
As we craft a reed cross
At Imbolc in their name