Poetry & Art
by Our Members
|
|
By Ellen Evert Hopman, from “A Druid's Herbal For the Sacred Earth Year”
|
Beloved Brighid of the triple flame,
Daughter of the Dagda, Guardian of the sacred spring Whose voice is the soul of the harp, We call on thee. Teach our hands to heal and our hearts to sing; We entrust our life's progress to your care and ask that you shape us bending and turning our hearts on your bright anvil of flame till we are made perfect jewels fit to be set in the eye of your timeless harp to play for the soul of the people in times of sorrow and times of celebration. We thank you for your gifts to us of poetry and music of laughter and tears and for the healing balm of your wisdom. May we always remember to meditate on the gift of your sacred waters which surround us at our birth and sail us to our destiny. |
Our hearts are open to receive your blessing
Midwife of our souls, rain on us Shower your inspiration in curtains of song from sacred waterfalls in the realm where you dwell. Come to us as Virgin with the soft smell of flowers Come to us as Mother and feed us your fruits Come to us as the Wise Women in the stark blasts of Winter Help us to see your Mystery in all creation that we may know gratitude and reverence Our hearts sing to you with love Teach us to change like the revolving seasons; Teach us to grow like the green corn that feeds the people; Teach us to fashion beauty like the stillness of the forest pool. and the roar of the ocean wave. Teach us to heal like the soothing gem which cools the eyes and restores the limbs With humility and bright expectation We invoke thee this hour! |
|
The forge of daylight Behind the woodland slides
And Stars , one by one, Light up the darkening skies. The last glimmer of sun Frames the trees with fire. A last wash of light comes Before the deepening night. My hearth is swept clean Kindling replaced from forest floor. Fireflies of glowing embers Float up in the warmed air’s draw. I light the sacred candle, Watch The Eternal flame Uncoiling and rising Drawing forth my prayers. Brighid with great gratitude I shall tend your holy Fire From dusk to dusk I will keep your Love alight. Grant me access to your Well of inspiration Teach me how to learn The path to divination. I ask it of you , not for self I ask it for Earth Mother How can we mend her failing body How can we mend her broken Soul. Written by Penny |
POEM (for Lughnasadh Aug 1st)
Lughnasadh Love Come my dears to celebrate with me Love in fullness we shall see Bring your colors gold, orange and red Wear vines and gems upon your head Baskets of tasty herbs and roots And please remember your harvest boots Children carry small bags of grain All has been growing in sun and rain The cattle and chickens will all watch on While Brighid and Goddesses lead joyous song With burning lamp and my walking staff I'll sprinkle 'round a little chaff Give thanks for protection as we transform Refreshed, renewed and then reborn Given to us this fullness of love Now we return it to earth and above This is my invite to all of you Lughnasadh in August; no need for ado! By: Mairead ⓒ 2022 |
|
Lost in the mists
Confusion surrounds me Like an embrace i do not want. I try to follow the path, Yet I cannot see it In front of me anymore. Directions confused, I spin, trying to orient myself To the way ahead. Then, out of the shadows, A form appears, solidifies. It is she. Brigid reaches out her hand, Takes mine, and pulls me along Saving me. She is bringing in me out of The darkness, the swirling mists, Keeping me safe. I may be confused, But as long as she leads I'll continue in faith Written by Jak Geneb |
The Wind in my Hair
I walk the slow steps Of the devoted, Feeling your presence Beside me. I walk... The wind, it sings The songs of old, Speaking in your Ancient voice. The wind... Your voice Telling me takes Guiding me Forward. Your voice... Your touch, Caressing my neck, As the wind blows In my hair. Your touch... No matter where I go Or what I do, You are with me, My heart and soul. The wind in my hair. The Wind in my Hair Written by Jak Geneb |
|
I rise for rowan I rise for oak In your forge The fires stoke In your flame so bright We forge a fiery rune Reflect it to the world Let me be your moon Written by Mike M. |
Created by our member Sandra L. using wool and a piece of her altar cloth.
|
The Chiding
by AN Gorniak
How ungentle you are with yourself, child.
Wanting to be what you want to be, right now and thoroughly.
The deep loam seems to you a swallowing dark.
You do not understand that sometimes the hottest of fires is needed to nurture the mightiest of trees.
Patience,
For my urgency is not yours.
And becoming is a process with no true end.
Hold out your hand open,
Not grasping and greedy nor desperate for the way out or the walls of what is not a prison but a seed.
Settle yourself here with the curiosity of a small child who does not yet know that names exist.
And so begins their own naming.
You are not a thing to be found, no map nor rescue could lead the way to safety.
Unfurl in this place, send out your wild tendrils.
You will know when it is time to reach.
by AN Gorniak
How ungentle you are with yourself, child.
Wanting to be what you want to be, right now and thoroughly.
The deep loam seems to you a swallowing dark.
You do not understand that sometimes the hottest of fires is needed to nurture the mightiest of trees.
Patience,
For my urgency is not yours.
And becoming is a process with no true end.
Hold out your hand open,
Not grasping and greedy nor desperate for the way out or the walls of what is not a prison but a seed.
Settle yourself here with the curiosity of a small child who does not yet know that names exist.
And so begins their own naming.
You are not a thing to be found, no map nor rescue could lead the way to safety.
Unfurl in this place, send out your wild tendrils.
You will know when it is time to reach.
