In honour of Imbolc and Brigit’s Day, we celebrate the first fragile signs of Spring in the Celtic tradition with this exquisite poetry-film by Grace Wells. We pay tribute to “the oldest love affair and the longest marriage between culture and nature where people and place are one”.
Imbolc / Vision In the cold of late January mhí Eanáir in the first fresh days of February mí Feabhra, the Cailleach lets go her hold fragile days slight as the sickle moon the first slithers of light brightening the horizon to announce the maiden goddess' return Brigit carried back to us over the wildest seas on the highest tides and in their lowest ebb. Brigit come to lay out the dying winter to birth the spring between her hands her hips and at her hips she wears a belt of stars the cros midwives' buckle all across the world the three sisters the Trés Marías the belt of stars that births us into wonder a new season fragile as an infant born into sleet and hail spring tenuous as the glimmers of light returning each day two minutes more Brigit's strength swelling by the smallest increment calling the sap to rise the ferns to uncurl cycles of frost and sun burning the new leaves and Brigit, goddess of healing repairing each bud until the Cailleach's cloak becomes Brigit's mantle her dew of mercy falling equally on all things Brigit patron of the animals waking the bees to wing rousing the birds to nest calling the hare to dance goddess of weaving re-threading the weft of life each bud, each leaf a fleck in the body of the goddess a filament of the divine Brigit come to our threshold to ask how have you overwintered? goddess of creativity asking after the poetry in your life goddess of smithcraft silver, gold and iron beauty and practicality tool and implement asking, how do you tend to the world? inviting us into her alchemy into the oldest love affair of all the long marriage between culture and nature over, under, through a binding of tendril and verse filigree and frond leaf and song all that is tangled shall be unravelled all that is frayed can be mended and people and place being one the children here take rushes from the fields to weave the body of the goddess shaping the limbs of her four directions over, under, through binding at the center the fifth province of faith with its soft eye that sees the sacred in her every thread Brigit goddess of the spring who tides us over till her blossoms come