Brigid: A poem from the land


The pace of your soul

Slow yourself, slow yourself, slow yourself here

I am in the wind, soft caress on skin and land

Slowly enter, drop and rest

I am creatrix, poetress, sacred sex, genderless

Enlightened mysterious

Keeper of the flame

Mistress of water, arts, traditions, imagination and the rites of Spring

Through me flows all of life's creation

I hold you in softness in this land

Go back to the pace of your soul

Brigid

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