One of the first deities that called to me on my path was the Scots Goddess, Bride.  Some of you might know Her as Bridget in the Irish pantheon.  Today is commonly considered Her festival, and in honor of that, I thought I would share a very personal poem I wrote many years ago about what it means to serve Her.

The hearthfire is not only sacred to Bride, but represents the heart of who She is and what She does.  The central flame without which there is no life, the foundation of family and tribe, the Light that pushes back the darkness… She is all these things and more. 

In honor of Her and my work with Bride, I wear an Amber pendant in the shape of a flame to remind me of this very poem.  I hope it inspires you to work in the world as the hands of your God/dess today.

HEARTHSONG

I am walking through white woods,
White snow and white stars.
My breath moves like mist
Amidst birch trees,
Pale and trembling.

Silent the way before me,
Death from whence I came
To this place,
This cold and crystalline
Here… I am here.

Bare branches lace together
Their filigree fingers.
To read the runes aright
One must look up.
The trees do not lie.

Black distilled from blackness,
Snow-brushed shadow
Set with amber stare.
Are you waiting for me?
I am waiting still.

The wolf leads me onwards
Into this white, still night.
Gliding over gilded ground
We thread the forest’s weft
As time shuttles on.

A hill rises before me,
Embraces a doorway of hewn stones.
A sigil on the lintel
Burns my brow with memory –
Three and three and three.

I enter into myself and walk
The long corridor of my soul
To the fire that burns within.
This is my hearth, I say.
I know. I lit it.

A woman with timeless eyes
Stirs the coals of my spirit.
The sign of the withy-cross
Gleams at her fair throat.
Sit, child, and heed me.

This ring of stones is the body
I fashioned to contain your fire.
I gathered the kindling
Of your passions and your gifts.
I spoke you into being.

I have tended you always…
In times when you have consumed
With thoughtless care,
In times when you were doused
With tears overflowing.

During your longest nights,
I have smoored you,
To raise you up anew,
Stronger, yes, and brighter
Than ever you were.

I know the fuel you love best,
The one that quickens you.
I know also that fuel which
Makes you sputter with effort.
In love, I give both.

I am the song the heart sings.
I am the strength of the hearthstone.
I am the ringing of the forge.
I am the battlecry of birth.
I am the roar of the flames.

Those who bear my torch within
Also bear the duty of Light –
To push back the darkness
Wherever it may be found
And, first, from within.

You are warmth, so comfort.
You are light, so guide.
You are cleansing, so heal.
You are warding, so guard.
You are power, so work.

Here, always, will you find me.
Never will I forsake you.
Keep your heart-fire pure,
An eternal votive to me,
And honor well my ways.

In a shimmer of light, she is gone.
With a glimmer of Sight, I know
This homecoming is not chance,
Nor compromise, nor choosing.
It is the answered call.

The Cailleach reigns o’er men’s hearts.
Our day and age are frozen
In the dishonour and greed
Of generations, rootless and foundering.
Who will cry, “Bride is come!”?

In this world, I am Her hands.
The withy-cross is mine to bear.
May renewal be in my touch.
May light be in my works.
May my life proclaim Her presence.

I am the flame.

(c) Sitara Haye, 2001.

Photo by Pattie 74_99 (via Flickr).