Brigid of the Morning

By Rowan Fairgrove

I am the poet and the poem
The inspiration in the night
I stand beside the Tarb Feiss
And whisper wisdom low and true

I am the shining sun of morning
A fire that burns inside the head
My gifts are knowledge and transformation
I pound and quench and draw out souls upon the forge of time

The flowing waters of my well
Soothe womb and soul alike
At childbed I am the midwife who brings new souls to birth
For mine is the gift of life.

Those who seek me will find nourishment
I am the brewer of new ale
I am the baker of the grain
All acts of transformation will I aid

The seed becomes the shoot
The shoot grows as its nature dictates
Thus has it always been and always shall be
I am the vitality of fire that dwells within.

copyright 1998 Rowan Fairgrove. All Rights Reserved.

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