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Damh the Bard
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Brighid
There's a tree by the well in the wood,
That's covered in garlands,
Clooties and ribbons that drift,
In the cool morning air.
That's where I met an old woman,
Who came from a far land.
Holding a flame o'er the well,
And chanting a prayer.
(Chorus)
Goddess of fire, Goddess of healing,
Goddess of Spring, welcome again.
The told me she'd been a prisoner,
Trapped in a mountain,
Taken by the Queen of Winter,
At Summer's end,
But in her prison, she heard the spell,
The people were chanting,
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Three days of Summer,
And snowdrops are flowering again.
She spoke of the Cell of the Oak,
Where a fire is still burning,
Nineteen priestesses tend the Eternal Flame,
Oh but of you, my Lady,
We are still learning,
Brighid, Brigantia,
The Goddess of many names.
Then I saw her reflection in the mirrored well,
And I looked deep in her face,
The old woman gone, a maiden now knelt in her place,
And from my pocket I pulled a ribbon,
And in honour of her maidenhood,
I tied it there to the tree by the well in the wood.
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