Imbolc - Rekindling the Flame 2010

The guardian of Imbolc is Brigid. This very special healing time involves awakening creativity through love and nurturing the fire of inspiration. Brigid appears throughout the Celtic world in various guises. Spellings of her name vary with the language of each region, as Bride, Brigit, Bridget, Bridghe, etc., yet the stories are remarkably consistent. She is the patron of poets and musicians, craftspeople, and healers. One of her symbols is fire and she possesses a healing mantle or cloak. Celebrated both as an ancient goddess and a Christian saint, Saint Brigid is one of the few spiritual entities who has successfully bridged the pre-Christian and Christian worlds and is revered in both. In the Christian tradition, she is known as "Mary of the Gael" and is reputed to have been the midwife for the birth of Jesus, the Light of the World. The historic Brigid, the daughter of a slave, is said to have been born on the threshold of a Druid's house, symbolically between two eras. She eventually took the veil as a Christian nun and was a colleague of St. Patrick. Legends abound which tell of Brigid's miraculous life and attributes, but all seem centered on compassion and the creative arts. .

This CD comes with a 49 page booklet of in-depth notes. The comments on this web page are MUCH abbreviated!

When our Cross Quarter project is complete there will be a book of lore for the four CDs.

Water, Fire, and Smoke 6:03
© 1987 Betsy Rose, Paper Crane Music

Ancient wisdom is timeless and relevant-

Julia Lane - vocal, harp
Fred Gosbee - strings

It's been a long journey to come to this place
I've traveled in time and I've traveled in space
I've traveled in circles and come face to face
With the water, fire, and smoke
I've pondered and worried, I've tightened the rope
Feasted on sorrow and starved out my hopes
Now I come like a lover, my heart in my throat
Give me water, fire, and smoke

  So run from the churchyard, the word and the cross
  Run to the forest, to the rivers and the rocks
  You will find a green altar deep in the moss
  You'll find water, fire, and smoke

Water for cleansing my eyes and my ears
Fire the transformer of sorrows and fears
Smoke for my ancestors, drawing them near
With the water, fire, and smoke
Ancient the spirits of rocks, trees, and wind
Ancient the rites of the green sacrament
Long before judgment, atonement, and sin
There was water, fire, and smoke

  So run from the churchyard, the word and the cross
  Run to the forest, to the rivers and the rocks
  You will find a green altar deep in the moss
  You'll find water, fire, and smoke

I've laid down my burdens, the weight of my years
Gods I have worshipped and causes held dear
But who will I be when they all disappear
Into water, fire, and smoke?
I've knelt in the ashes, in peace may I rise
Empty of knowing, and full of surprise
Clothed all in silence, a daughter baptized
In the water, fire, and smoke

  So run from the churchyard, the word and the cross
  Run to the forest, to the rivers and the rocks
  You will find a green altar deep in the moss
  You'll find water, fire, and smoke

The Return of Spring

Two traditional Scottish melodies with a poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne (1837-1909) that reflect the beauty of the shifting season.

Julia Lane - harp
Fred Gosbee - violin, recitation

For Winter's rains and ruins are over,
And all the season of snows and sins;
The days dividing lover and lover,
The light that loses, the night that wins;
And time remembered is grief forgotten,
And frosts are slain and flowers begotten,
And in green underwood and cover
Blossom by blossom the spring begins.

The Calleach

The ancient Celtic people believed that each season had a guardian and personified the winter as the Cailleach, or old Crone. Her reign began at Samhain (Oct. 31) and continued through Yule until Imbolc in February. She would beat the ground with her silver hammer causing it to freeze. At Imbolc, some stories say that she is transformed into the spring maiden, Brigid, while others tell of a great struggle as light and warmth displace darkness and cold signifying the release of the captive daughter. Like the Greek Persephone, Brigid emerges from the bondage of winter to revive the earth.

Although the Cailleach often appears as a threatening figure, here is another view of the Auld Granny written in Scots, the ancient language of the lowlands, accompanied by two appropriate jigs.

Holly Morrison - recitation, vocal
Julia Lane - harp
Sue Mack - Scottish small pipes

When yon Auld Grannie gyres an gimps
An unco' dance on cranreuch groond
An' gies her sillar curls a crimp,
Ye ken that Imbolc's comin' roond.

When sillar hammers, blaw for blaw
Fa' habber-haird in hin'maist hone
Then haud ye fast, for soon the thaw
Will prize awa cauld winter's loan.

Nae lang she'll lanesame bide, nor sup
Wi'oot the dochter she lo'es best;
Nae grannie redds the kailyaird up
But for the thocht o some comin' guest!

Nae mair the lanesame anvil-drum
Will mark the pace o Grannie's dance--
The Lass o' the Lintin Wand shall come
An lowpin' lambies hae their chaunce--

For Grannie Cailleach's time grows short
An wee snaw-drappies rowthie ring
For Bridgit cams, blithe hope tae sport
An after Bridgit cams-- the Spring!

Glossary
unco' = strange
cranreuch = frosty
sillar = silver
Fa' habber-haird in hin'maist hone = begin to stutter and fade away
prize = pry
dochter = daughter
redds the kailyaird up = cleans the place
lanesome = lonesome
lintin wand = glinting wand of Bridgit
lowpin' = leaping
Cailleach = crone
snaw-drappies = snowdrops
rowthie = abundantly

The Harp of Dagda / The South Wind 9:51
Music © 2010 Julia Lane / Story © 2010 Fred Gosbee

The denizens of the Celtic "pantheon" were known as the Tuatha de Danaan, or children of the mother goddess Danu. There are many local variants regarding the relationships of the Tuatha, one to the other, but Brigid is generally regarded as the daughter of the Dagda, a benevolent father figure. He has three magical possessions; a club which kills with one end and heals with the other, an inexhaustible cauldron which provides sustenance for all and a harp which not only changes the seasons when played, but can elicit joy, lament and grieve, or induce healing sleep. This ancient story is from a saga called the The Second Battle of Moy Tura (Cath Maige Tuired) and seems relevant even in modern times with it's theme of imbalance in the natural order and the restoration of it. In a traditional telling, the harper would accompany the bard weaving tales of magic for an assembled company around the fire in the great hall.

Julia Lane - harp, vocal
Fred Gosbee - storyteller

Brigid of the Hearth

The hearth was literally the heart of the home. Not only did the fire keep away the cold of winter and food was prepared here for the physical body, but folk would gather around to share ancestral songs and stories or create new tales to be passed on, rekindling their cultural connections. Each evening, before retiring to bed, the fire would be "smoored" or smothered; the coals covered with ashes to retain the spark until the next morning. A blessing invoking Brigid's guardianship was said during this process

Holly Morrison - Gaelic reading
Julia Lane - English reading - harp
Fred Gosbee - Irish flute, 12-string guitar

Smaladh An Teine

Cairidh mi an tula
Mar a chaireadh Muire,
Caim Bhride's Mhuire,
Car an tula's car an lair,
'S car an ardraich uile.

Aingheal geal an car an tealla,
Gon tig la geal gu beola.
Aingheal geal an car an tealla,
Gon rig la geal gu beola

Smooring the Fire (trans. Holly Morrison)

I will build the hearth
As Mary would build it.
The encompassment of Bride and of Mary,
Guarding the hearth, guarding the floor,
Guarding the household all.

An angel white to tend the hearth
Till white day shall come to the embers.
An angel white to tend the hearth
Till white day shall come to the embers.

The Peat-fire Flame by Kenneth MacLeod

Far away and o'er the moor,
Morar waits for a boat that saileth,
Far away down Lowland way,
I dream the dream I learned, lad,
By the light o' the peat-fire flame,
Light for love, for lilt o' grail-deeds,
By the light o' the peat-fire flame,
The light the hill-folk yearn for.

Far away, down Lowland way,
Grim's the toil, without tune or dream, lad,
All you need's a creel and love,
For the dream the heart can weave, lad
By the light o' the peat-fire flame,
Light for love, for lilt o' grail-deeds,
By the light o' the peat-fire flame,
The light the hill-folk yearn for.

Far away the tramp and tread,
Tune and laughter of all the heroes,
Pulls me onward o'er the trail
Of the dream my heart may weave, lad,
By the light o' the peat-fire flame,
Light for love, for lilt o' grail-deeds,
By the light o' the peat-fire flame,
The light the hill-folk yearn for.

Brigid the Blacksmith

Several symbols in this song remind us of Brigid's relationship to the Blacksmith. The roaring bagpipes made from the green willow evoke the powerful early spring winds that blow through the trees and the pretty girl is none other than Brigid herself!

Fred Gosbee - vocals
Alan B. Davis - chorus vocals
Julis Lane - harp
Sue Mack - Scottish smallpipes
Jim Boutilier - anvil

Here's a health to the jolly blacksmith
The best of all fellows
He works at his anvil
While the boy blows the bellows

Chorus   Which makes his bright hammer to rise and to fall
  Here's to old coal, and to young coal and to old coal ava'
(ava' = again)   Twanky dillo, twanky dillo
  Twanky dillo, dillo, dillo, dillo
  And he plays the roaring bagpipes made from the green willow

If a gentleman comes for his horse to be shoed
He will make no denial to one pint or two

Here's a health to the pretty girl that I love the best
She kindles her own fire all in her own breast
Green willow, Green willow Green willow, willow, willow, willow
And he plays the roaring bagpipes made from the green willow

The Twa Magicians
Traditional

The theme of transformation continues in this next song where shamanic shapeshifting results in the eventual consummation of a sacred marriage.

Julia Lane - vocal, harp
Fred Gosbee - vocal, 12-string guitar, bass, violin

A lady stood by her own front door
As straight as a willow wand
And by there come a lusty smith
With his hammer in his hand

Chorus:
  Bide, lady bide
  For there's a nowhere you can hide
  And the lusty smith will be your love
  And he will lay your pride.

So the lady, she curled up her hand
And swore upon the mold
That he'd not have her maiden head
For all of a pot of gold.

But the blacksmith he curled up his hand
And he swore upon the mast
That he would have her maiden head
For the half of that or less

So the lady turned into a dove
And flew up into the sky
But he became a raven black
And after her did fly

So the lady she became a duck
And swam out on the pond
And he became a water dog
And fetched her back again

So the lady turned into a fly
And fluttered up in the air
But he became a big, hairy spider
And dragged her into his lair

So she became a full-rigged ship
And she sailed out on the sea
But he became a captain bold
And aboard of her went he

So the lady ran into a house
And she changed into a bed
But he became a coverlet
And he gained her maidenhead

Manx Greeting to Breeshey / Moirrey Ny Cainle 3:39
Manx Traditional

On the Isle of Mann, which is located in the middle of the Irish Sea, an 'Invocation to St Brigid', is sung by the woman of the house on the eve of St Brigid's Day. The women of the house prepare a special bed to welcome her. Food and drink are left out so that St Brigid, disguised as an old woman, can find shelter and refreshment. It was considered a great honour and blessing if she were to visit your house.

The following day is 'Laa'l Moirrey ny Gainle' - the day of Mary of the Candle. The ritual called The Churching of Women is, in Manx, 'Lostey y Cainle' - Burning the Candle.

The dance associated with Laa'l Moirrey ny Gainle consists of a girl (acting as Moirrey) carrying a lighted candle who leads four other couples. During the dance, the four men light their candles from that of Moirrey. The procession continues, into the church in olden days, but in more modern times into the pub!

Holly Morrison - Manx Gaelic reading
Julia Lane - English Reading, harp
Fred Gosbee - whistle, Irish flute

Breeshey, Breeshey, tar gys my hie,
Tar gys y thie aym noght.
Breeshey, Breeshey, tar, o tar,
Gys y thie aym noght.
O foshil jee y dorrys da Breeshey,
Lhig da Breeshey çheet stiagh.
Breeshey, Breeshey, tar oo
Gys y thie aym noght.

Bride, Bride, come to my house,
Come to my house tonight.
Bride, Bride, come, o come,
To my house tonight.
O open you the door to Bridget,
Let Bride come in.
Bride, Bride, come you
To my house tonight.

Bridgid the Midwife

This idea of birthing is directly related to the physical timing of Imbolc. In fact, the name Imbolc is derived from Oimelc, which means "ewe's milk". Both humans and animals were giving birth at this time; the former as the natural result of participating in the fertility rites at Beltane, nine months earlier. Early spring is a convenient time to bring infants into the world as the worst of the winter is over, but the community is still gathered together and essentially at rest. The new mother would have plenty of support and little arduous work to do. She would be recovered in time to help with the spring planting and other chores required as the season progressed.

This old song is the perfect Imbolc lullaby. It was learned from Kaity Newell of Nottingham England.

Julia Lane - vocal, harp
Fred Gosbee - 12-string guitar

Hushabye bairnie, croon, croon,
Hushabye bairnie, croon,
The sheep are gone to the silver wood,
The kye are gone tae the broom, broom.
The kye are gone tae the broom

Oh, and it's braw milking kye, kye,
Oh, and it's braw milking kye,
The birds are singing, the bells are ringing
The wild deer go galloping by, by.
The wild deer go galloping by

Hushabye bairnie, croon, croon,
Hushabye bairnie, croon,
The goats are gone to the mountainside,
And they'll no be home till noon, noon.
And they'll no be home till noon

Glossary
bairnie = baby
croon = sing
kye = cows
broom= bushes
braw = grand, beautiful

The Hag at the Churn / Spotted Cow Jig 2:42
Traditional

Making butter is easy. Simply pour a cup of heavy cream into a glass quart jar with a tight lid and shake vigorously until the butter "comes" or solidifies. Try "churning" your butter to the beat of these old dance tunes!

Sue Mack - Scottish smallpipes
Julia Lane - harp
Fred Gosbee - Irish flute

Brigid the Herder

Music has been shown to have a calming effect on cows and dairymaids were known to sing to their charges during the milking. They would also ask for Brigid's protection upon all the herds in the pasture.

Holly Morrison - Manx Gaelic reading
Julia Lane - English Reading, harp
Fred Gosbee - 12-string guitar

Cuiridh mi an ni seo romham
Mar a dh' orduich Righ an domhan,
Bride 'g an gleidheadh, 'g an coimhead,
's 'g an comhnadh,
Air bheann, air ghleann, air chomhnard,
Bride 'g an gleidheadh, 'g an coimhead,
's 'g an comhnadh,
Air bheann, air ghleann, air chomhnard.

Eirich, a Bhride mhin-gheal,
Glac do lion, do chir, agus t' fholt,
Bho rinn thu daibh eolas amhra,

'G an cumail bho chall is bho lochd,
Bho rinn thu daibh eolas amhra,
'G an cumail bho chall is bho lochd.

Bho chreag, bho chathan, bho allt,
Bho chadha cam, bho mhille sluic,
Bho chridhe mhi-ruin, bho shuil an uilc.

(translation by Holly Morrison)

I will place this flock before me
As was ordained by the King of the elements,
Bride to keep, to watch, to tend,
On ben, on glen, on plain,
Bride to keep, to watch, to tend,
On ben, on glen, on plain.

Arise, fair gentle Bride,
With flaxen braid and shining comb
Encircle the flock with your wise web of protection,

To keep them from straying, to save them from harm,
Encircle the the flock with your net of protection,
To keep them from straying, to save them from harm.

From rocks, drifts, and streams,
From crooked passes, from deadly pits,
From unholy desire, from the eye of evil.

Chro Callain Chro Callain would gi' me, sae canny and free
Their milk without fetter when nane's by tae see
Chro Callain are bonny, Chro Callain are braw
Like the wings o' the muir hen brown spotted and a'

Chro Callain would gi' me wherever they browse
Their milk without measure among the green knowes
Chro Callain are canny in the heat o' the day
They lie 'mang the heather while their calves 'round them play
Chro Callain are bonny, Chro Callain are braw
Like the wings o' the muir hen brown spotted and a'

Nae sleepin', nae sleepin,' nae sleepin' for me
Till they come that I'm seekin. there's nae sleepin' for me
Chro Callain are bonny, Chro Callain sae dear
They aye fill the milk pail, what braw calves they rear
Chro Callain are bonny, Chro Callain are braw
Like the wings o' the muir hen brown spotted and a'

Brigid the Healer

All traditions related to Brigid praise her ability as a healer. Interestingly, many of the associations with her are accepted as being therapeutic- the arts, music, dance, even milk. Throughout the literature relating to St. Brigid are accounts of her compassionate healing of the diseased and infirm. Throughout the Celtic lands are found healing wells dedicated to Brigid still decorated with offerings and prayer "clooties" or ribbons. She even heals the land itself by spreading her mantle over parched infertile ground and causing it to bloom. These images all bring to mind this time of earth's turning from the cold barren winter to the health and possibility of spring.

The lovely song was written by Clare Maloney / Patricia Hegarty. It is the school song for St. Brigid's Primary School in Glasnevin, Ireland.

Brian Hoye - Irish reading
Fred Gosbee - English reading
Julia Lane - vocal, harp, wire harp
Sarah Begin - vocal

Gabhaim molta Bríde
Ionmhain í le héirinn
Ionmhain le gach tír í
Molaimis go léir í

Lóchrann geal na Laighneach
A' soilsiú feadh na tíre
Cean ar óghaibh éireann
Ceann na mban ar míne

Tig an geimhreadh dian dubh
A' gearradh lena ghéire
Ach ar Lá 'le Bríde
Gar dúinn earrach éireann
-----------
I honor Brigid
Beloved of Erin
Beloved of all lands
Let us all praise her

The bright flame of Leinster
Shining throughout the land
Pride of Erin's youth
Exalted among gentle women

In the dark house of winter
The frost cuts keenly
But on Brigid's Day
Spring draws near to Erin
-----------
We sing a song to Brigid
Brigid brings the spring
Awakens all the fields and flowers a
And calls the birds to sing

All were welcome at her door
No one was turned away
She loved the poor, the sick and the sore
She helped them on their way

We sing a song to Brigid
Brigid brings the spring
Awakens all the fields and flowers a
And calls the birds to sing

She laid her cloak out on the ground
And watched it grow and grow
In wells and streams and fields of green
Saint Brigid's blessings flow.

We sing a song to Brigid
Brigid brings the spring
Awakens all the fields and flowers a
And calls the birds to sing

Rekindle the Flame 4:16
© 2002 Fred Gosbee

This song summarizes some of the qualities of Brigid.

Fred Gosbee - vocal, 12-string guitar, strings
Julia Lane - vocal, harp

As the winter days grow longer and the sun is getting stronger
The bear will wake to sniff the wind and leave his cozy den.
When Orion starts to go it is then that you will know
That soon it will be Brigit's Day again.

  Let your fire die down, clean the hearth and sweep the stone
  Clear the darkness of the winter from your heart and soul
  Spring's around the corner, she'll soon be here again
  And Brigit is here to rekindle the flame

This season is a blessing, it's the time of year for resting
Most thankful is the mother with a new babe at her breast
In just a few short weeks comes the time of sowing seeds
Then months of work until the time for harvest

At his forge the blacksmith stands with the skill that he commands-
Transforming iron ingots into tools of strength and grace
In his hand the hammer rings, in his heart he hears her sing
A joyful song which helps him know his place

Many people in these days from the earth have been estranged
In the hurry of their cities nature's cycles are ignored
But the healing will begin if we only turn within
And listen in our hearts for Brigit's word

Blessing of Light / Gentle Maiden 4:47
Traditional

This is an ancient blessing of unknown origin with a melody noted down in the late 18th century.

Julia Lane - harp, reading
Fred Gosbee - reading, Irish flute

May the blessing of light be on you, light without and light within.

May the blessed sunlight shine upon you
And warm your heart till it glows like a great peat fire,
So that the stranger may come and warm himself at it, as well as the friend.

And may the light shine out of the eyes of you,
Like a candle set in the windows of a house,
Bidding the wanderer to come in out of the storm.

And may the blessing of the rain be on you - the soft sweet rain.
May it fall upon your spirit so that all the little flowers may spring up,
And shed their sweetness on the air.

And may the blessing of the great rains be on you,
May they beat upon your spirit and wash it fair and clean,
And leave there many a shining pool, and sometimes a star.

And may the blessing of the earth be on you - the great round earth;
May you ever have a kindly greeting for those you pass
As you are going along the roads.
May it be soft under you as you lie out on it, tired at the end of day;
And may it rest easy over you when, at last, you lie out under it.
May it rest so lightly that your soul may be out from under it quickly;
Up and off and on its way to Heaven.

And now, may Brigid bless you, and bless you kindly.