Offerings Of The Spirit

                                                    

   
                                                                Introduction
These poems have been inspired by the Goddess Brighid herself. They developed over the course of a year from the original Invocation I made to Bride at Candlemass in February 2008. This is the first poem in the cycle.
The cycle then follows the wheel of the Celtic year, with New Year starting in the darkness of Samhuinn (November), and working through Winter Solstice, Imbolc, Spring Equinox, Beltane, Summer Solstice, Lammas and finishing with Autumn Equinox. The poems contain nuances and subtle correspondences to the Festivals they represent and are intended to be used prayerfully and meditatively during the Festival season.
Living close to the sea in Ayrshire, Scotland, I frequently see the Oystercatcher along the shore and rejoice in the connection between this beautiful bird and Brihde. The poetry is part of their song.
No charge is made for downloading these poems, but I would ask that anyone who does so, makes a donation to a charity in their neighbourhood, and then emails me at brihdein@live.co.uk and lets me know they have done so. Wouldn't it be marvellous if benefits from this poetry poured out into nature and the environment, health and social care, human rights and peace!
May the Blessing of Brighid be always with you
May the Blessing of Brighid be always with those you love
May the Blessing of Brighid be always a bright and eternal flame in your heart

AN INVOCATION TO BRIHDE AT CANDLEMASS
1 February
Blessèd Brihde my one desire
Is you before me by the fire
Spreading rays of radiant light
Bringing end to winter’s night.
You’re also known as hallowed Bride
And greeted at this Imbolc-tide.
Your triple calling speaks to me:
Healer, forge and poetry.
Blest Brihde your spirit touches mine –
The name of Smith is in my line.
The words I write are breath of Brihde
My garden heals a world in need
I thank you for the gifts you send
Of snowdrop flowers at winter’s end
And in return I send your way
An Imbolc gift of milk this day.
Blest Brihde sweet Lady of the Hearth
Illuminate my faltering path
Inspire my words and heal my pain
And help me forge my life again

SAMHUINN
1 November
Under cover of darkness the Old Year seeps away
Daily becoming thinner, weaker, more dilute
Fraying at the edges, ragged, pale and grey
Washed-out fabric, fragile, feathered jute.
Under cover of darkness the New Year grows apace
Daily becoming tougher, stronger, more distinct
Knitting at the edges, broderie anglais, lace
Saturated colour, pearlised with a deeper tint
Between the feathering and the filigree
Shimmering chiffon separates the two
A strange world veiled in organdie
Where does old end? Where starts the new?
This sacred season of Hallowed Eve
Samhuinn Night - the Old Year's tail -
Allows for passage through the weave
For ancestors to cross the veil
Under cover of darkness mysteries unfold
The seam is stitched together, memories fade
But in deepest shadow throughout the winter cold
There shines the light of Brighid in gold brocade!

WINTER SOLSTICE
21 December
In the stillness of the Shortest Day
The rising sun dawns quite alone
A single sunbeam casts a golden ray
On a solitary frosted standing stone
In the forest sheltered from the wind
A unicorn glimpsed white through falling snow
Sparkling prisms of glistening crystal ice
Illuminate the sickled mistletoe
Ivy entwines the berried holly tree
A deer slips by unnoticed in the shade
The sun paints fingers of streaming light
Across the frozen river of the glade
The setting sun sinks slowly into dusk
Darkness gathers early - candlelight
The pine log crackles fragrant in the open hearth
The Shortest Day : the Longest Night
The Queen of Fire and Light puts on her boots
And wraps her mantle tightly to her side
It's time for work - a six week journey to the beach
To bring the world to life at Imbolc-tide

IMBOLC
1 February
Brihde crossed the machair to the sea
An oystercatcher in her hand
She scooped a cup of the rising sun
And sprinkled sunbeams o'er the land

SPRING EQUINOX
21 March
Spring is not a time of peace
It jumps and jerks and wrestles free
March hares boxing bound wild-eyed
Buds erupting on the tree
Last year’s seeds burst into life
Hard earth cracks as shoots emerge
Wild winds storm across the sea
And whip the flooding tidal surge
A time to leap before you look
To follow Fool – step off the ledge
A time of reckless folly, risk
To dare to balance on the edge
Herne the Hunter heralds havoc
Dances in a fairy ring
Mad Hatter loups across the fields
Then stops, high-fives Green Man of Spring
Bridie wrings a rainbow out
Cascading colours crown the hills
Glade and garden emerald green
And golden dancing daffodils

BELTANE
01 May
On the fields around the bridle-path
Young grass sparkles in morning dew
The day stands tip-toe, waiting, ready
Beltane sun is shining through
In a dappled blossom-laden lane
The scent of hawthorn fills the air
Brihde bestows a glimpse of grace
As she tends the birthing of a pregnant mare
Lovers circle spiralled ribbons
Dancing through the May Day morn
Song and laughter, Beltane bonfire
Labour ends. A foal is born

SUMMER SOLSTICE
21 June
In all the wonder of brilliant light
Of blazing blinding transfiguring flame
Of the power and the passion of the Solar circle
Brihde a rose by any other name
Brihde the Queen of Fire and Light
Who hangs her mantle on the Sun
Brihde of courage, fortitude and strength
Brihde of life ere life begun
Brihde of Solstice in exalted glory
You come with light for the good of all
But your throne is a daisy surrounded by bees
For you burn with love for all things small

LAMMAS
1 August
Bridie drowses in the barley,
on the way to Lammas Fair.
Weaves the crop stalks in a circle;
plaited poppies in her hair.
Kinsfolk gather at the bonfire:
contracts actioned; bought and sold.
A time of measure, introspection.
Bring in the new, discard the old.
Blest Lady take me as I am and gather me
as new-scythed corn
Open arms in winnowing wind,
scattering seeds to be reborn.
Brighid of hearth, your oven bakes
the harvest of the Lammas field.
The bread is shared; a mystic glimpse:
a world at war is cherished, healed.
The Oystercatcher flutes at dawn,
a warning in her soulful call.
The barn is full, the harvest ends.
High summer preludes autumn fall.

AUTUMN EQUINOX
21 September
With joyful triumphant liquid trill
Robin's song announces Autumn's here
Day and night are equal length
Darkness comes to northern hemisphere.
A time of sorrow - Summer's over
Dreams and hopes turn golden brown and die
Trees take the risk to stand skeletal, bare
Throughout the Winter's sharp and icy bite.
Their boughs are bending, laden down with fruit
Apple, hazel, beechmast, berry, haw -
Birds and insects riffle through the feast
Enough today - when Winter comes, no more.
A wave of grief floods inland from the sea
Atlantic breakers empty on the strand
A curlew gathers molluscs with the tide
Dunlin harvest food twixt sea and land.
The oystercatcher, known as Gille Brihde
Dips her beak in sand at evening light
The setting sun sinks aqueous through the clouds
Damp and misty, weak, then lost from sight.
The wind of change rampages from the west
A time to stall the cattle in the byre
A time to set the ewes down in the fold
To shut the doors and windows, stoke the fire.
From now the year progresses to its end
Shortened days and nightfall gathering.
But know that all the while the darkness reigns
That Brihde will come with sunlight in the Spring.