A Poem on St Brigid
Brigid wove a cross of rushes
By a dying chieftain’s bed.
“Brigid what is that you’re making
From the rushes there?” he said.
Brigid said, “A cross I’m weaving
Like the cross where Jesus died.”
“Who was Jesus?” asked the chieftain,
“Why was this man crucified?”
Brigid told the gospel story
To the dying pagan king.
Lying silently he listened,
Never saying anything.
Then he kissed the cross of rushes
Saying, “Brigid, thanks to you,
I have come to love this Jesus,
I will follow his way too!”
Finbar O’ Connor