Linda Johnson as "Bridgit"
BRIDGIT
"Brigit never really left Her sacred places. The women of Kildare
still refer to her in the present tense. The Catholics made Her Saint Bridgid,
but She is really the ancient Celtic Goddess, the same one Great Britain was
named after. Fires are still lit in Her honor, Brigid's well is still sacred.
You can feel Her still immanent in Ireland, continuous from the distant past -
the Lady who never abandoned Her people, even when they were driven from
their homelands to the New Worlds."
......Diane Darling (2002)
"Brigit never really left Her sacred places. The women of Kildare
still refer to her in the present tense. The Catholics made Her Saint Bridgid,
but She is really the ancient Celtic Goddess, the same one Great Britain was
named after. Fires are still lit in Her honor, Brigid's well is still sacred.
You can feel Her still immanent in Ireland, continuous from the distant past -
the Lady who never abandoned Her people, even when they were driven from
their homelands to the New Worlds."
......Diane Darling (2002)
I am Brigid, Lady of the Celts
Creatrix of the Island of Ireland
Midwife to new life in the spring.
Leave a cloth outside your door -
For I shall be abroad on Brigid's Eve.
I am Lady of the Flame, Mistress of changes
Feel my hand on yours as you craft your lives
I am Lady of the Well, the deep well
That reaches into the darkness and rises to the light.
I am the fount of Inspiration for poet and bard -
Call me by my many names: Breezh, Bridey, Brigit, Breed
Sweet Mary of the Gaels, midwife to Christ
When once again amongst us he is born.
I am with you, children of the children of
The Lost Isles, the Western Shores
Far flung, far from your homelands -
I have not forgotten you.
Remember me when the poet sings
When the cow rises from the calving
and the fever leaves the brow.
Raise a glass of golden mead to Brigid,
Lady of the Celts.
by Diane Darling (2000)
Photographs courtesy Thomas Lux
Creatrix of the Island of Ireland
Midwife to new life in the spring.
Leave a cloth outside your door -
For I shall be abroad on Brigid's Eve.
I am Lady of the Flame, Mistress of changes
Feel my hand on yours as you craft your lives
I am Lady of the Well, the deep well
That reaches into the darkness and rises to the light.
I am the fount of Inspiration for poet and bard -
Call me by my many names: Breezh, Bridey, Brigit, Breed
Sweet Mary of the Gaels, midwife to Christ
When once again amongst us he is born.
I am with you, children of the children of
The Lost Isles, the Western Shores
Far flung, far from your homelands -
I have not forgotten you.
Remember me when the poet sings
When the cow rises from the calving
and the fever leaves the brow.
Raise a glass of golden mead to Brigid,
Lady of the Celts.
by Diane Darling (2000)
Photographs courtesy Thomas Lux