And so, it snows for her.
February opens white, to shine around
and she brings us together –
this midwife, this fertile goddess of the field.
How we love her, that she brings light.
And Seamus’ wife speaks on the radio
of how he loved Brigid particularly
and all womankind come to that,
which she celebrates by reading his love poem
The Clothes Shrine for Herself and herself.
And there is love on this day of Brigid
and we are not afraid.
note: Seamus Heaney’s last words were a text to his wife, Marie, saying nolle timere (don’t be afraid).
poem and photo Rose Cook
From my new book ‘Sightings’ which is available from me or: email@example.com