Brighid: The White Maiden

 

Brighid: The White Maiden

The heady scent of reddened apples greets her

As she strolls leisurely into her misted garden.

Shamrocks, heather, and snowdrops,

Follow in her footprints’ wake.

Sparkling drops of light shower down from the greenery,

As she passes by,

Eager to revel in her beauty,

Her splendor,

Her grace.

The red of the morning sun—

Liquid fire—

Feigns to scorch her golden hair.

But alarm does not arise in her breast,

For sunrise encompasses her domain.

Her healing touch sparks life in the surrounding beauty,

While a steel blade forged by her own hand sways on her hip.

Rhymes and images entwine her thoughts,

As Imbolc begins on this morn.

Already she prepares herself for the long day ahead,

For there is no rest to be had for a Goddess,

Especially one as greatly loved as she.

Image From Google. All Rights Belong To The Artist

Image From Google. All Rights Belong To The Artist

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13 thoughts on “Brighid: The White Maiden

  1. Pingback: Brighid: The White Maiden « West Coast Review

  2. Pingback: Happy St. Patrick’s Day! | moonstonemaiden

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