Growing up in Ireland I was always aware of Saint Brigid. Each year rushes would be gathered and strewn over school desks where my classmates and I would weave Brigid’s crosses. The crosses would then be brought home and hung over the doorways of our houses as talismans for blessings and protection for the year Read More
I felt it.
The sap rising in my bones
Just a trickle
But enough to make me turn on the radio
And bop to pop in my living room
So damn grateful for its return
And the aliveness that it brings.