Brighid

There's a tree by the well in the wood

That's covered in garlands

Clooties and ribbons that drift

In the cool morning air

That's where I met an old woman

Who came from a far land

Holding a flame o'er the well

And chanting a prayer

Goddess of fire, Goddess of healing

Goddess of Spring, welcome again

The told me she'd been a prisoner

Trapped in a mountain

Taken by the Queen of Winter

At Summer's end

But in her prison, she heard the spell

The people were chanting

Three days of Summer

And snowdrops are flowering again

She spoke of the Cell of the Oak

Where a fire is still burning

Nineteen priestesses tend the Eternal Flame

Oh but of you, my Lady

We are still learning

Brighid, Brigantia

The Goddess of many names

Then I saw her reflection in the mirrored well

And I looked deep in her face

The old woman gone, a maiden now knelt in her place

And from my pocket I pulled a ribbon

And in honour of her maidenhood

I tied it there to the tree by the well in the wood