St Brigid

As the goddess of poetry
She was the one
Born exactly at sunrise
In tune with the sun
From her forehead a flame
Rose into the sky
Up into heaven
The holiest high
Giving new life
Made the dead walk again
The very same light
As the daughters of flame
The nine who lived in
The greatest of shine
Who no man dare look upon
The most divine
Brigid sweet goddess of fire
And of hearth
The daughter of Dagda
She followed the path
With a shrine in Kildare
And an undying flame
Attended by virgins
19 they claim

Her sacred number
Of the Celtic great year
The new morn and Yule
Just to be near
The twentieth day of each
Cycle in fact
Where Bridget herself
It is said did react
By tending the fire
By working the wood
The eternal flame
The eternal flame
that burned as it should

Women by the lark
With its sacred song
In the converts her women
Where she did belong
Before divinity
She gave her power
In the service of all
Hour after hour

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