she is the poetry in my veins...she billows her breath into my lungs which feeds the flames of my warrior heart...she gives healing from her underworld springs...
though the catholics may have taken her on as st. brigid she will always be old irish!...the goddess brigit will always be the goddess of fire...and in the ash this morning i saw her blessing...the bit of cloth left for her last night blew away and it made me smile...twice before it has blown away...
brigit...unwavering...there in the dark of the winter whispering to the seeds which are planted not in the ground but in our feminine knowing...we who know her feel these seeds beginning to sprout...
she who is always reaching out from the fires...lifting up the words inside of me...sending me healing waters...today...imbolc is her day...we who remember the old ways...we are grateful for brigits wisdom and strength on this day...she who was born of fire and water...emerging from the mother as the emerald jewel of spring...she IS ireland...
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