Friday, February 6, 2015

Brigid's Cross and the Coming of the Light


The Bird and I celebrated Imbolc or Candlemas or St. Brigid's Day or Goddess Brigit's Day or whatever WINTER IT WILL END IF WE LIGHT ALL THE CANDLES Day a day late, as the third was the full moon. We did precious little: she helped me twist wet strands of paper into raffia to weave into a Brigid's cross.

She wasn't her typical enthusiastic baby PixieWitch, so after I'd lulled her to sleep with her pop Greek mythos {she's obsessed with the (cheesy, barely tolerable) Percy Jackson & The Olympians books} I got up and lit candles for Our Lady of Groovy Threesomeness, which you cannot deny is an upgrade from 'triple goddess' and at least one of those personae agree. I combed the net for a while and found a lovely prayer to Brigid, but I also was feeling an itch to invoke Pan. I'd been planning to have Molly with me so I eschewed Crowley's Pan invocation because I feel like that dirty old junkie has so much sex attached to his mojo that it's nearly abusive to even utter his name around my baby. 

The point is I wrote a stream-of-consciousness prayerpoem and it's nothing fancy-like but I believe I should be inputting words into the crazy little thing called blog, so here's my PanThing:
Pan the God of the living fields,
Wild Lord of all that grows green
and blooms to color in the Spring, 
Leaping dancing God of all life
we call you by golden sun
and we sing to you by moonlight.
Wild Pan, Forest Pan, God racing
ever in the wooded hills, we shout
and cry our joy for Your running
and rhythmic raving.
Our ears are for your pipes' song
Our throats laugh loud with You
Our hearts pound as drums for You.
O Pan, Wild Pan
With moon full and shining,
With sun growing bright
We call you O Pan
This Imbolc night
I like a spell or an invocation to rhyme, if loosely, in opposition to most of my poetry. Odd?


I learned that Brigid is known as The Fiery Arrow, which delighted me as my wee maiden's learning archery herself after playing at it for years. She got a real bow for ChristmaSolstice and just enrolled in lessons that begin tomorrow.

I see her as an Artemis like child very much.


And then I was trashed the next day; I guess I had been bending into the craft surface without realizing but the next day it was Morpheus all the way. Yesterday was better and today is a pain free time and so there is light in my bones and I'm writing and shrieking Tori Amos to the skies and I have a couple of hours to draw before Birdy gets home and we venture out to socialize. 

Have a weekend full of magic or marshmallows, snow or sunshine or science and I'll manage to get my posting rhythm back as the season turns.

I love you, b'leaders, I do. Daisy do. 

No comments:

Post a Comment