Brigid's Blessing

Brigid, Brigid, strike the spark, Warm the bones, light the dark.

Milk and blood, hearth and oath, Bless our hands, burn our ghosts. Brigid,

Brigid, forge this soul. Heat the iron, make me whole. We don't kneel,

we don't break. Bless the wild, cut the fake. White cloth down by the door

tonight. Rush cross hung in candlelight. Milk in the bowl,

flame on the wick. We don't pray soft, we pray thick.

She's the poem in the hammering. She's the thaw in the ice of things.

Call her low, call her loud, call clean. Brigid rise like gasoline.