I am Brigid, Lady of the Celts
Creatrix of the Island of Ireland
Midwife to new life in the spring.
Leave a cloth outside your door -
For I shall be abroad on Brigid's Eve
I am Lady of the Flame, Mistress of changes
Feel my hand on yours as you craft your lives
I am Lady of the Well, the deep well
That reaches into the darkness and rises to the light
I am the fount of Inspiration for poet and bard
Call me by my many names: Breezh, Bridey, Brigit, Breed
Sweet Mary of the Gaels, midwife to Christ
When once again amongst us he is born.
I am with you, children of the children of
The Lost Isles, the Western Shores
Far flung, far from your homelands -
I have not forgotten you.
Remember me when the poet sings
When the cow rises from the calving
and the fever leaves the brow.
Raise a glass of golden mead to Brigid,
Lady of the Celts.
by Diane Darling (2000)