Fire-stories for the 6th Annual Brigid's Poetry Festival

The Creatures of Fire Tell a Story

The creatures of fire tell a story.

First are the bees,

Bound in gold and wrapped with night.

"Listen," say they,

"We will tell of a woman,

Our very own woman who wraps us in words,

In flowers of sound soft as Her touch.

We supplicate, we give of our own,

Sweetest honey laid on Her tongue,

Carried in quivering jaws by our most 

Rarified Queens.

Trembling legs touch softest lips as

We pay homage to beauty,

We homely and meek,

To truth and Her words

Give homily."

Second is the fox,

Fur flaming and ruddy with light.

"Listen," says he,

"I will tell of a woman,

The forest's own woman girded with fire 

Who keeps us the blade and the well.

I supplicate, I lay at Her feet,

Give Her my eyes and long-furred ears,

Bodily, if I must! lay down before

Her Flaming Arrow.

I will meet Her glory with stoutest heart as

I pay homage to mercy,

I, wily and dash,

To shaft and to tip,

Give homily."

Third is the snake,

Sun warmed and labyrinth-curling.

"Listen," says she,

"I will tell of a woman,

The night's own woman who mounts on the fire,

Rides wailing through roads left unseen.

I supplicate, I slip 'round Her throat,

Slip out of skin in the frenzy of

Sliding on the sun-warmed skin of Her,

The Flaming Crown.

Kiss Her naep with my fairest belly as

I pay homage to remedy,

I, lowly and wild,

To heat and Her heart,

Give homily."

Last is the poet,

Flaming pen and shaking hand.

"Listen," says he,

"And I will tell of a woman."