St Brigid's Day in
Since we were given a Bank
holiday to celebrate, the country has risen to the occasion and festivals are
sprouting up everywhere. Traditionally the only way I ever celebrated was to
gather reeds and make Brigid's Crosses, see poem below.
The Cross is meant to protect
against fire in the home and every year we burnt last year's cross and made a
new one. We kept it simple.
But I learn now that, in Kerry, villages are awash with biddies wearing white outfits and sporting elaborate
straw hats. They rove in droves from house to house singing and dancing into
the wee small hours over a period of four nights. I had no idea that we were
missing out....
At Imbolg
Stooped to
the rhythm of sickle
we gathered
rushes from the bog
or ,with
our hands, pulled stems
that raised
wheals and reddened palms.
We lay them
in piles and folded
and turned
and turned and folded
until we
made a centre that would hold.
Not knowing
then that she was daughter of Dagda
Celtic goddess,
crone turned maiden each Spring.
That we
were cutting deeper than bog
i mbolg, at
imbolg.
Copyright Cathy Leonard 2016
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