After the painting Among the Reeds by Rita Conway Sweeney

There are many ways to visit the dead.

Rounding the hill, I’m torn
by the sign for the graveyard
and first sight of Lough Derg
silvering below.
………………………….The far shore
backs away into its own shadow.

This saint’s eve, would a silent prayer
to the artist
or the moon
allow second sight:
………………………….The watery edge
where those reeds grow.

A wish is a wish, no matter how outlandish.

Those reeds plucked, let me weave
my tangled loss. Bending green,
pinching, folding, grief
through this one
………………………….this only
St Brigid’s Cross.

Placing that memento in night water,
I call up a wind, old friend,
for a fair crossing to Holy Island.
There’s a sung benediction
………………………….echoing
along the lapping, melodic lake.

.

This poem was first published in Fire: Brigid and the Sacred Feminine published by Arlen House and later in TIDAL Doire Press 2025

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Karen J McDonnell’s writing is widely published and anthologised, including The Poetry Bus, Peaceweavers Anthology (Culture Matters, UK), Washing Windows V, Fire (Arlen House), Vital Signs (Poetry Ireland), Romance Options (Dedalus Press), New Isles Press 2, Skylight 47, Crannóg, The Stony Thursday, The Cormorant, The Galway Review, The North, and New Irish Writing.  Her poem ‘Driftwood’ was shortlisted for Irish Poem of the Year at the Irish Book Awards, while non-fiction and poetry have been Best of the Net and Pushcart Prize nominated. Her collections This Little World and TIDAL are published by Doire Press. She lives in the west of Ireland. More at karenjmcdonnell.com

Author’s picture by  Aidan Sweeney Photography.

Brigid the Bard Supplement Contents

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