Imbulc, or Candlemas, is the
ancient feast of Brigit - so what better way to celebrate the Goddess
of Bards, than with a poem.
0 Macha,
1 Once it was written
of you in Ulster
2 that you were Grian -
"the Sun of Womenfolk".
3 Your spirit lived in
hills and moors
4 our rugged headlands,
sweeping shores.
5 Every feastday we
would thank you
6 for the harvest of
mast that fed us,
7 While you ran our
skies,
8 A White Mare Sun
Goddess
9 Few Stallions would
dare mount.
10 But then came the
savage men, eager to replace you,
11 who could not
tolerate a Goddess they could not tame,
12 who would not
respect a mother's pains.
13 Whose king at a
Samhain gathering,
14 challenged you to
outrun his horses,
15 thinking you would
be slow when pregnant.
16 Thus he set out to
overthrow the mother.
17
18 We share your pain
as you were forced to plead:
19 "Help me, for a
mother bore each one of you.
20 Give me King but a
short delay until I am delivered."
21 He would not delay
for the mother he thought defeated,
22 and so you cried:
"My name and the name of that which I will bear
23 shall forever cleave
to this place of Assembly for I am Macha".
24 And with that she
out raced the king's horses
25 before giving birth
to twins.
26 Then she cursed the
men of Ulster: "From this hour the shame
27 you inflicted on me
rebounds to each one of you.
28 When a time of
oppression falls upon you,
29 each one of you will
be overcome with weakness,
30 Like that of a woman
in childbirth,
31 and this will remain
upon you for five days and four nights,
32 to the ninth
generation it will be so."
33 And the cursed men
still did not respect the mother of all life,
34 they tried instead
to curse her by saying she was but the goddess of
their wars.
35 On days when Macha's
gifts of harvest were celebrated,
36 these savage men
brought to the feast
37 the heads of
enemies, calling these "the mast of Macha"
38 in savage mockery of
her harvest.
39 They claimed that
life came from the head not from the womb
40 And, holding severed
heads between their thighs,
41 Boasted gleefully
they possessed the source of life.
42 And the magic of the
wombs that bore them.
43 But when the time
came for Ulster to be oppressed,
44 When foreign princes
rode their northern necks,
45 Then Macha with her
sisters as the dreaded Morrigan
46 took care of the
dead and wounded from the fighting
47 and with magic
fierce opposed the wars of men
48 with all the power
of the threefold spiral.
49 While the men who
feared the Goddess sung
50 Of her taming and
her rape at the hands of brutish men.
51 So other forms the
Threefold took.
52 In the songs of Bard
and Druid,
53 Of Exalted Brigit
they now sung,
54 Fading the ancient
image of the Crow.
55 They spoke of her
inspiring Awen breath,
56 Of her as Mistress
of poets, of smithery and of healing
57 Thus they reshaped
the triple Goddess for an Ireland of high art,
58 Then with ancient
strength, renowned through Europe
59 As swift as the Fire
Arrow Breo-saigit,
60 She came against a
triple God of men
61 Who for Patrick was
the only source of magic.
62 Thus he fought her
the serpent mistress of high magic
63 Goddess of the fire
tended by priestesses
64 Where swords were
banned from beneath the sacred oak,
65 Where centuries
after Patrick death still burnt the fires of Brigit
66 Watched by "She who
reversed the streams of War"
67 In the sanctuary of
Kildare, Cill Dare, the Church of Oak
68 But Patrick's clergy
also served the women
69 For the Mothers used
them against the murderous kings
70 who in savage wars
sought female heads above all others.
71 Thus a mother,
Smirgat of Tara, bound Saint Adamnan.
72 Before another crumb
he ate, to seek the freedom of all women,
73 So with threat of
curse against the kings he freed the women
74 From kings but not
his church for he demanded in return that
75 Women pay his listed
fees less cursed be their children,
76 And thou' the
churchmen promised that Brigit as a saint would be honoured for all
time,
77 They hoped in God
the Father's name, we'd forget her divinity.
78 But in memory true
at Candlemas, with candles lit,
79 We honour still the
fiery course of Brigit,
80 And thus this
ancient Imbulc day
81 We invoke the Sun
Mare Goddess;
82 Our Crow, our Cow,
our Serpent
83 Our Brigit, our
Morrigan, our Macha.
84 Come oh never
forgotten Goddess
85 Come oh Fiery
Sun,
86 Giver of heat and of
health
87 Chantress of our
Sacred Earth.
88 Breath your life
into the earth,
89 In Winter's Cold
Dark we call You,
90 Come oh Mare from
the Night bring Day,
91 We your people
call.
By Jani Farrell-
Roberts - c97.