I began to blog in order to take part in the Cyber Brigid Poetry Festival and it is coming around at the end of this week and has a facebook page with a 2011 date https://www.facebook.com/BrigidPoetryFest
The following poem began many moons ago and coalesced this summer with a subtitle "Brigid Dreams". I would love as many poeple as possible to read this and join the dream.
Dreaming
or
Brigid Dreams
I dream of all the women in the world
I dream of all the women that I mourn
I dream of all the women that are coldly cut and torn
I dream of all the women that are raped
I dream of all the women that are shaped and stitched for custom’s sake
I dream of all the women that are branded “witches”, “sluts” and “whores”
I dream of all the women that are covered up and enslaved and used in wars
I dream of all of women’s wasted blood and tears and sweat
I dream of all of women’s sacred places that are desecrate
I dream of ancient women’s stories and I dream of ancient women’s art
I dream of ancient teaching circles to open gentle, healing hearts
I dream of ancient women’s wisdom and I dream of ancient women’s lore
I dream of times when women’s parts were named with reverence and with awe
I dream of ancient women’s medicine and I dream of ancient women’s blood
shed in life nourishing cycles with childbirth and the moon
I dream of ancient women whispering that we can change and we can turn
I dream of ancient women encouraging us to make choices and to learn
I dream of times when every woman will be free to refuse pain
I dream of times when every woman will be free to use her courage and her rage
I dream of times when every woman will be free to choose to tell her tales
I dream of times when every woman will be free to remove her make up and her veils
I dream of times that may have been, of times that may yet be
I dream of fair ferociousness and of wild and raw beauty
I dream with all the women in the world
by Bríd Wyldearth 2012
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poem in process for Brigid's Day:
Brigid’s Way
Compassionate
Outpouring care feeds our mythic spring.
Sparkling flame of peace abides within,
melts forbidding.
Not fools,
no pleas for altruist beliefs.
We give because it feeds us.
We have no fear of cunning deceivers.
Who could take unfair advantage,
steal our goods?
If energies are not replenished, the giving stops;
but to take advantage of a useful contribution
is no drain. It is the focal point of our outpouring.
Need reaches to heal through magical interchange.
Why ought Compassion be measured out
in play at “who deserves”?
Fed by the blessing
of sacred vessels aching to be filled,
we who have found this gift of fortune,
this well neverending revealed,
dip in with grace, good will,
self-rejoicing wisdom.
This is not belief or even knowing.
This is breath of awe in motion.
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