Further Irish-ness

Brigid of Kildare, a convert of St. Patrick’s, ruled as high abbess of an immense double monastery, a foundation that admitted both men and women. Brigid is reputed to have taken the veil on the Hill of Uisnech, Ireland’s primeval navel and the mythical center of its cosmic mandala. Her monastery began as a sort of Green Martyrdom under a huge oak, the sacred tree of the druids – thus, Kildare, which means ‘Church of the Oak.’

Irish poem/hymn:

I see his blood upon the rose
And in the stars the glory of his eyes,
His body gleams amid eternal snows,
His tears fall from the skies.

I see his face in every flower;
The thunder and the singing of the birds
Are but his voice – and carven by his power
Rocks are his written words.

All pathways by his feet are worn,
His strong heart stirs the ever-beating sea,
His crown of thorns is twined with every thorn,
His cross is every tree.