Sitting on the Hag Seat: A Knot of Celtic Poetry

This Imbolc Day I honor Brigit, Gaelic goddess and saint, releasing into Her hands my gift to Ireland:

latest-cover(Click on cover to order)

Sitting on the Hag Seat was inspired by a pilgrimage I made to Ireland in 2015.  The journey was inspired enriched and guided by an extraordinary circle of wise women.  We spent our time outdoors at ancient sites, walking paths, lying on grass, resting against stones, drinking from sacred springs.  Because we chose to listen, the land spoke to us.  Irish earth guided me to a deeper, richer connection with  Planet Earth; a connection that continues to strengthen wherever I stand.  For this gift I am profoundly grateful. 

My book honors the Spirit of Place so palpable in Ireland.  The poems explore details of the landscape, those places wherein gods, spirits and totems so often reside.  The collection, taken as a whole, depicts an ardent connection with physical, historical and mystical Ireland.  Blood feuds, cattle raids, cows, crows, and fearsome goddesses flow through the pages forming themselves into a Celtic lovers’ knot of poetry

Brigit is an ancient Celtic goddess of healing, metal smithing and poetry.  An elemental fire goddess who survived Christianity as a patron (shouldn’t it be matron?) saint of the Emerald Isle.  Imbolc, harbinger of spring, is Her day.  It is a time of new beginnings, the season when seeds begin germinating, ewes begin lactating.  I think it propitious indeed to send a new book into the world on…

                                            Imbolc Day

                                       Blood stains the snowy field

                                       streaks the broad white forehead

                                      of the goddess, coats her arms

                                      in red red gloves.  Her mouth

                                      holds imprint of a bloody kiss ‑

                                      tiny nostrils freed of phlegm,

                                      life’s warm breath

                                      blown through open airways.

                                      She sits cross-legged,

                                      lamb cradled in her lap

                                      as dawn replaces indigo with apricot

                                      leaching darkness from the sky.

                                      The birth-exhausted ewe

                                      leaning on bright Brigit’s shoulder

                                      licks her baby clean.

I hope you choose to order my book.    

If you enjoy the poems,

please consider favorably reviewing

Sitting on the Hag Seat at

This entry was posted in Books, Nature, Pilgrimage, Poetry, Storytelling and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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