imbolic
A tale about Brigid the coming of spring and Imbolic!
"I have heard many tales of Brighid, one of the most widely loved and revered Goddesses of the ancient Gaelic pantheon. Bride the Beautiful is not infrequent in songs and seasonal hymns, for when Her signals are seen along the grey beaches, on the sandy shores, or by the meadow path, we know that the new year is disclosed at last, that the promise of the Yule tree is fulfilled, and that food, warmth and gladness are coming out of the south. Everywhere She is honored at this time.
It is an old tale, this association of Brighid with February. It goes back further than the days of the monkish chroniclers who first attempted to hide the light of this fair Goddess in the disguise of Christian raiment. It is the tale of She to whom the women of the Gael went with offerings and prayers...Brighid of the Flame. They refer to the One whom the Druids held in honor as a torch bearer of the eternal light, a Daughter of the Morning, who held the Spring's sunrise in one hand as a little yellow flame, and in the other held the red flower of fire, without which men would be as the beasts.
She herself and no other is She, that ancient Goddess whom our ancestors saw lighting the torches of sunrise on the brows of the hills, or thrusting the quenchless flame above the horizon of the sea; whom the Druids hailed with hymns at the turn of the year, when in the season we call February, the first signs of the advancing Spring are to be seen on the grey land or on the grey wave or by the grey shores.
She herself and no other is She, whom every poet, from the humblest wandering singer to the greatest Bard of memory, blessed…for the flame she put in their hearts and ignited on their tongues.
She herself it is who put the red life in the flame that springs from wood and peat. None shall forget that it is She, the daughter of the ancient God of the Earth, but greater than He, in whose veins run the elements of fire and air. And how shall we forget that at any time She had but to bend above the Earth, and her breath would quicken, and pulse would come back into the still land, and what was dust would blossom and be once more glad."
"I have heard many tales of Brighid, one of the most widely loved and revered Goddesses of the ancient Gaelic pantheon. Bride the Beautiful is not infrequent in songs and seasonal hymns, for when Her signals are seen along the grey beaches, on the sandy shores, or by the meadow path, we know that the new year is disclosed at last, that the promise of the Yule tree is fulfilled, and that food, warmth and gladness are coming out of the south. Everywhere She is honored at this time.
It is an old tale, this association of Brighid with February. It goes back further than the days of the monkish chroniclers who first attempted to hide the light of this fair Goddess in the disguise of Christian raiment. It is the tale of She to whom the women of the Gael went with offerings and prayers...Brighid of the Flame. They refer to the One whom the Druids held in honor as a torch bearer of the eternal light, a Daughter of the Morning, who held the Spring's sunrise in one hand as a little yellow flame, and in the other held the red flower of fire, without which men would be as the beasts.
She herself and no other is She, that ancient Goddess whom our ancestors saw lighting the torches of sunrise on the brows of the hills, or thrusting the quenchless flame above the horizon of the sea; whom the Druids hailed with hymns at the turn of the year, when in the season we call February, the first signs of the advancing Spring are to be seen on the grey land or on the grey wave or by the grey shores.
She herself and no other is She, whom every poet, from the humblest wandering singer to the greatest Bard of memory, blessed…for the flame she put in their hearts and ignited on their tongues.
She herself it is who put the red life in the flame that springs from wood and peat. None shall forget that it is She, the daughter of the ancient God of the Earth, but greater than He, in whose veins run the elements of fire and air. And how shall we forget that at any time She had but to bend above the Earth, and her breath would quicken, and pulse would come back into the still land, and what was dust would blossom and be once more glad."
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